


Dragon Age Drabbles.

by alderberry



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:57:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 28,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6040780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alderberry/pseuds/alderberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captured Drabbles following the events of various OC's.<br/>Many different universes are tossed in.<br/>Will add a note if it changes drastically from one to the next or in timeline.</p><p>Featuring Cannon characters and OC's both mine and belonging to my potato/rittapokie<br/>( aspiritedpotato.tumblr.com )<br/>( archiveofourown.org/users/RittaPokie/pseuds/RittaPokie )</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Where Fate Split Their Path

**Author's Note:**

> This moment in their lives changes everything, two outcomes happen... in one universe Tamlen and Rusca continue into the woods while Lyna returns to the Clan. Rusca becomes the Warden and ends the 5th blight.... This story follows the thread that sends Lyna to the Grey Wardens and Rusca into the role of Inquisitor.

The air was sweet. Insects buzzed and songs of birds drifted lazily through the air around the three young hunters; each in various states of undress as they relaxed near the water hole.

"We should keep our patrol close to camp today.“ Rusca says while wringing water from long silver hair.

"and why is that?” Lyna, currently lazing over Tamlen asks. It was an unusual suggestion from the youngest of them.

"Something… just feels off.“ he shrugs twisting his hair up to keep it off bared shoulders.

"You worry too much.” Tamlen grins, happy enough to stay away from camp for another day or even two with current company

"Maybe you worry too little.“ Rusca counters joining them on the blankets laid out in the midday sun. Tamlen was most likely correct. There wasn’t anything to suggest otherwise but the nagging feeling in Rusca’s gut wouldn’t leave him be.

"You’re probably just worried because we haven’t caught anything.” Lyna suggests. It was getting harder for the three of them to convince the elders to allow them to hunt together due to how little the three actually hunted. This trip was proving to be much of the same… more time in each other’s company than on the trail.

"Probably.. but still. I think I’ll head back to camp once we break, maybe it’s something happening there that’s got me feeling like this.“ he frowns but dismissed the subject for now. He wouldn’t let some ridiculous unfounded worry spoil the time they did have to be freely open with their affections.

"You know, we’d probably catch more game if we spent more time hunting.” Tamlen chuckles.

"It was your fault we stopped this time.“ Lyna states.

"I only suggested a quick stop. It was the two of you who started the rest.” Claiming innocence.

"You were hardly objecting.“ Rusca says stretching out languidly and running his hand lazily down Tamlen’s side and along Lyna’s arm.

"and why would I?” he grins.

"We should at least get back to it…“ Lyna says without much heart as she reaches over to return the caress, drawing fingers over Rusca’s stomach and getting tickled flinches for her efforts. "The stags trail is probably cold by now though.”

Despite the words the three remained where they lie. Letting the sounds of the forest around them fill the air and enjoying the warmth of the sun. If the trail was cold then another hour would do no harm, each had concluded separately. Not knowing it would be the last peaceful moments they would spend with each other.


	2. You Can't Ignore Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleven years after the fifth blight is ended by Lyna Mahariel... Rusca is sent out to gather information despite his misgivings.  
> ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Rusca had chosen, like many, to leave his name behind when Clan Lavellan took them in. Adopting the clans name in place in hopes of leaving the curse which seemed to haunt them behind. Hoping that removing evidence of Sabrae the Dread wolf would finally give them peace. Though his name was Lavellan, he had yet to settle into it like the others spending days at a time away and while the clan worked with humans on a regular basis he refused to take part in any of the dealings. He made no secret of his distrust of humans and even less of his distrust in mages which is why he was so surprised when Keeper Lavellan chose him to be the one to travel to the conclave in order to watch and see what was transpiring. His only assumption was that since he was not actually one of her clan that losing him to whatever fate might befall him would not be a heavy blow. He had heard the late night discussions between the elders, the arguments of who should be sent carried for several days until unexpectedly the Keeper had brought up Rusca’s name.

The elders took to the idea readily once proposed, and so he found himself traveling. While the company of the energetic young hunter which Rusca suspected snuck away to join him was pleasant he missed the presence of his usual companion especially at night when they’d find a place to camp and his thoughts would catch up to him and he’d seek a distraction. During the day while traveling he was able to occupy his mind with distinguishing tracks and avoiding any others on the roads until they reached much closer to the Conclave.

The area of the Conclave itself was uncomfortable for him. Filled with humans or city elves which might as well be human and being a holy site he couldn’t escape the endless droning of their Chant relying on a small camp just outside of the cluster of buildings they called Haven in order to escape. Venturing in to gather information only once a day and retreating shortly after.

For a week things carried out like this until it became clear to get any further useful information they would have to begin actively taking part. Deciding that the following day he would travel to the Conclave and join in on the happenings while Valstroth would remain in Haven. Rusca found the plan leaving a sour taste in his mouth but there seemed little else to do. Haunting the edges of a human settlement to scavenge for scraps of information was getting them nowhere, and perhaps the voices of those not involved in the conflict would help drive some sense into the mess of desperate mage's and angry templar's.


	3. And So It Begins

As the edges of consciousness pulled at his mind, Rusca resisted. Reality was cold, hard, painful. Hard stone dug into his hip his head throbbed but nothing compared to the fire that was his arm, every nerve a sharp pain that shot from his hand up into his chest. He wakes screaming, flashes of dead memories in his mind mixed with pain.

"Rusca! Rusca, it's okay.... it's okay." Valstroth's voice was soft as always when Rusca woke from his terrors. They had only been travelling together for a short time, but the younger man had made an impression on Rusca.

Valstroth cursed the bars which separated them. It hadn't taken long after the explosion for the humans to blame the two Dalish elves who had been 'lurking' about for the past week, the older in particular who had somehow survived the explosion of the temple. Now all Valstroth could do was watch over Rusca from across the room. He had been in the cells alone for two days before they discarded Rusca, shackled and unconscious, into the cell across the room. The guards posted to watch over them refusing to answer any of Valstroth's questions. His concern growing every hour over the glowing green mark on his hand which pulsed whenever the ground shook. 

Rusca heard the words, trying hard to focus on the sound of the young hunters voice. To fight back the nightmare flashes which relentlessly plagued his mind and focus through the pain searing his arm. The soft voice edged with concern and panic.

"Val?" his voice cracking while he shifted to look around. Iron bars and stone enclosed them... the grim statues holding up the pillars did little to lift ones spirits. "Where...." finding talking to be too much effort he concentrates on breathing.

"Under their Chantry... They think we-"

"No talking!" the sharp command from a guard interrupts.

Two new guards enter flanking the door to Rusca's cell, as the original first enters roughly grabbing the elf and pulling him to his feet. If his pain had been less Rusca would have protested instead he used all his energy to not make a sound beyond a hard grunt as he was harshly pushed out to the center and back to the ground. He barely registered as another guard escorting Valstroth from the room, his eyes flicking up at him taking a moment to try and grasp the world around him. A smirk cracks his lips... he should have listened to his gut about staying away from the conclave... but at least the kid was all right.


	4. Chapter 4

. Darkness swallowed him, shadowed forms reaching out and clawing at Rusca's arm leaving him bloodied and screaming voiceless into the void around him. The whispers spoken by the voices of those he lost over taking all sound. He begged and screamed for help, unable to move pinned down by the claws dripping with his blood. No matter how hard he tried to pull away the claws only went deeper. The voices louder, more taunting, sweetness dripping in venom.

  
Val sat on the edge of Rusca's bed. His face twisted with concern and the only thing he was able to do was keep Rusca from clawing at the Marked arm already scarred and marred by the almost nightly ritual of the man clawing at it during his night terrors. Val shoots a look to the young man, Seran he believed he was called, who had woken Val up for help.. another near nightly ritual known by most of the servants which the inquisitor bedded.

  
The younger hunter was patient and calm waiting for Rusca's nightmare to pass, knowing if he tried to wake him it would only make it worse as he had in the past. Minutes past, long, painful moments of time which he felt helpless unable to comfort his friend.

  
Rusca woke violently, lashing out as he bolted upright his voice finally finding itself. Gasping for air and clutching his arm to his chest, smearing the beading lines of fresh blood over his chest. His eyes dart to Val taking a moment to register who it was, terror still fresh on his face.

  
"It's okay. We're safe." Val says softly, moving to wrap his arms around the other who lets himself melt into the embrace; letting the warmth of Val's body anchor him to the here and now. His familiar scent felt like home and continued soft words where a haven for his mind to cling to. Filtering out the whispers of his nightmare.

  
Once he managed to shake the worst of it off Rusca pulls away looking at his arm with a scowl before grabbing one of the vials from his end table, pulling the cork with his teeth and downing it quickly. The act gaining a soft frown from Val, more worried about ill effects from the amount of the draughts Rusca seemed to drink daily than the act itself. He knew the mark caused Rusca pain even if the he refused to speak of it. Once Rusca was finished Val takes it upon himself to bandage the others arm another act which had become second nature to the both of them.  
With Rusca patched and calmed Val stands to leave, slightly shocked when the other reaches out and catches his arm stopping him.

  
"Stay... please..." letting the words fall away as he often did in such moments. Refusing to look at the younger man.  
He smiles softly down at Rusca who looked so small and fragile; his callous manner and confidence stripped away like clothing once the two where alone. Val nods and Rusca lets go of his arm moving over in the bed to make room for him. He slips under the blankets pulling them around the two of them as Rusca wraps himself around Val settling into a calm space, Val was always a calm space.


	5. two thrones

Josephine watched well hidden horror as the Inquisitor paid little attention to the dignitary before him. They were lesser nobles, yes, but still Rusca showed more interest in the tapestry on the wall to the Lord speaking.

The visiting lord was turning an appropriate shade of red at the lack of respect shown. It only grew worse when the disrespectful leader held up a hand to silence the man. With no word or explanation Rusca stands and begins dragging his throne to the left. The sound of the heavy seat scrapping the stone floor echoing loudly throughout the hall as even Josephine’s mask fell in abject mortification.

"Your Worship-“ she begins, only to be silenced as he raises his thing and tuts.

He then walks past the visiting dignitaries and nobles idly watching court with continued silence as he takes up one of the chairs which had been carefully moved against the wall. Carrying it to the raised dais and setting it next to his own throne giving it a nod before turning and facing the crowd.

"Val.” he states simply, gesturing for his friend to approach and then pointing to the chair. “Sit here.” he commands before going back to his throne.

The dark haired hunter blinks in surprise but does as he’s told knowing Rusca wouldn’t continue with his business until he complied.

The Nobles face was a very livid shade of red as Rusca leans forward on his throne.

"Now, continue.“ the Inquisitor instructs paying full attention to the man. He would let Josephine handle the smoothing over later.


	6. Since adamant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU where Val became the inquisitor.  
> (this has become our favoured universe)

Since Adament he had been all but unresponsive. Meals left untouched and the only one who seemed to be able to go near him without violent results was Lyna. So on the fourth day when she came to bring him his meal which she knew would continue to go untouched and found his room empty panic gripped her. The only comfort being that his gear still lay in the heap where it had been left when they had returned to Skyhold. Her mind raced at where he could have gone, a small part of her hoping it was a sign toward the better but the greater part knowing him all too well.

She raced to the main hall, heart in her throat. It was still early and the son barely risen leaving the hall empty. She hoped she was traveling in the right direction as she ran towards Valstroth’s room… she could barely heart her own heavy root falls over the beating of her heart as she took the stairs two at a time until she burst in to tidy quarters.

Her eyes danced around the barren room left untouched since before they had left to face the Grey Wardens and their escape from the nightmare which had manipulated them into unspeakable acts. She nearly turned to search elsewhere mind already racing on where Rusca may have retreated when she noticed the door to the balcony open.

Rusca sat on the ledge. Looking over the mountains facing east towards the breach. She approached slowly not wanting to startle him from his visage staring to desperately towards the tear in the heavens.

“Rusca…” she speaks softly

He doesn’t respond, his body overly relaxed as his eyes slowly drift from the skies to the valley below before turning to look at her. As she comes up beside him, gently, slowly, she notices the tears streaming down his face which was otherwise devoid of any emotion.

“Rusca…” she repeats wrapping her arms around him half to comfort and half to keep him there.

“I couldn’t…” he speaks for the first time since exiting the fade. Voice barely a whisper. “I promised…and I couldn’t.”

“Ir abelas, Rusca.” her heart filled with empathy at his words, having felt the pain and guilt herself so many years before which still haunted the deepest places in her mind.

He breaks finally crumpling into her arms as she pulls him from the railing. She lets his weight drag them both to the floor as she pulls him close.

“I tried” he chokes out between sobs.

“I Know. Creators know, I know.” she responds. It pained her deeply to see him cry but it was a relief after the days of him completely shutting down to see him show some sign of life.

They remained like that until Rusca exhausted himself through tears before Lyna gathered him up, frowning at how frail he hd gotten, and laid him in Val’s bed hoping the familiar space would allow him to sleep finally. She curled up behind him and pulled the blankets over knowing Alistair would understand later. For now, Rusca needed her to be there and she wouldn’t leave him this time.

 

****

Lyna burst through the door and up the stairs finding Rusca where she had left him earlier that day in front of the hearth in Val’s room. The hunter had refused to leave the Inquisitors quarters since she had pulled him from the balcony ledge a few days ago.

“He’s alive!” her voice spilling into the space loudly “Val is alive! he’s far from Adament but alive!”

She saw the first real stirrings of emotion from Rusca in days as he whipped his head around hopeful and terrified both at once.

“He’s north of Antiva, near the Arlathan Forest. We just received word that four days ago he stumbled into a small village, exhausted but alive.” the wardens face stretched into a large smile as she continued the news.

Rusca almost didnt let himself believe the words she spoke. Dared not. But the life in his chest which stirred refused to be ignored after the time spent feeling numb. He jumped from his spot the world swimming around him he dashed down the stairs and through the hall. Lyna followed closely behind as Rusca threw open the door to Josephines office; the three advisors already waiting.

“When do we leave.” Rusca demands not giving them time to breath or exclude him even if they had a mind to. There was no force in Thedas that would keep him in Skyhold.


	7. shut up

They were alone. A fact that both were suddenly keenly aware of as the door clicked shut. The room was strange, belonging to the Mayor of the small village which Val has stumbled into after escaping the fade. Only making it that more obvious that they were in foreign territory both emotionally and physically. Rusca remained at the door, his hand still on the lock forehead pressed against the door frame as he tried to gather his thoughts. Put some form of sense into the torrent of emotions which had dogged him for months as they could finally no longer be ignored.

"Rusca..I-" Val begins. He stood in the middle of the room watching his friend, the man he loved, take slow deliberate breaths. His own head swam confessions and apologies at the tip of his tongue but words unable to find purchase. 

Rusca pushes himself from the doorway covering the distance between himself and Val in two fluid strides. His hands reaching up to grab the younger man's face and pull him down, pressing his mouth against the others firmly. 

An electric shock running down Val's spine as their lips meet, his mind stops spinning, words no longer needed between them. His arms wrap around Rusca's small frame pulling him close as he returns the kiss.  
One kiss becomes two, three, a half dozen peppered across Val's face. 

"never... never do that again, Vhenan." Rusca finally speaks, soft sweet honeyed words barely over a whisper. 

Val could feel him trembling, or was it himself? He nods, the only response he could think to give as he pulled Rusca even closer burying his face in the others neck letting his scent wash over him. Vhenan. The word swimming lazily through his head. 

"I'm sorry." he murmurs helplessly.

"I thought I had lost you. Finally lost you. That I would never-" Rusca's voice shaking "You are the sky. You are my sky." 

"I'm sorry" 

"Shut up." 

"I love you." Val confesses, if there was a need to confess any longer. Pulling away to look the other in the eyes.

"shut up.." Rusca repeats, planting another kiss on Val's lips. "... I love you to."


	8. We walked.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Universe in the Drabbles-  
> Characters are from my story Hart of the Bear.  
> it doesn't fall into any canonical event atm.  
> But it was in my head.

They sat around the small fire Keeper Theras and Ashiris one of Lathvhens shaman's held onto mugs filled with tea while Ga'laven had decided that he quite liked the apple wine to elders had offered him and Arctos. After his third cup his cheeks were flushed from more than just the heat of the fire and Arctos found himself acting as Ga'la's cushion while he lay stretched out next to the younger elf, a thing which he didn't mind in the slightest.

"There is something I have been wanting to ask you, da'len." Ashiris breaks the comfortable silence that had settled around them. "Well many things to be honest but we don't have the time in a single night. How did you end up in our woods so far from home?"

Arctos felt Ga'la tense for a moment. His face falling form what could have been considered a smile from the young man to it's usual blank stare. While he was difficult to read Arctos had come to understand most of the subtle nuances of Ga'laven's body language and expressions. Adding wine to him seemed to help soften his usual facade as well. He watched the honeyed eyes as they drifted from thought to thought as he considered the question. At length Ga'la nods, marking the end of his internal conversation.

"Alas and me walked." He says with a simplistic finality before draining his cup down his throat. Arctos found himself supressing a chuckle at the expression both elders held. They had not spent nearly the same amount of time trying to pry information out of Ga'la and thus had not been subjected to his often very literal and tight lipped answers.

"You walked." Ashiris had a bemused grin tugging at the corner of their mouth.

"The horses were dead." adding the additional information with a shrug as it it explained more in a helpful manner.

"But why did you walk here? Why not join a clan closer to home?" Ashiris pries further.

"This is not...." Ga'la starts trailing off as he drops his hand from the cup leaving it to rest on Arctos, unconsciously gathering the material of his tunic in hand. 

He was anxious, easy enough for anyone present to read, his mind playing through the long list of things he didn't like to speak of. Theras was about to interject and inform his he did not have to speak of it yet, as curious as the keeper was himself when Ga'la started up again.

"We could not. They would not be taking Alas." the grip tightens on the fabric and Arctos had to fight the urge to shift and wrap his arm around the other. "Alasenalath's father was Avvar-shem. Other clans would not take him. It did not matter he had Andruils Vallaslin. to them he was not Elvhen... and we could not be going to other Holds in mountain. They where not safe. So we climbed over mountains. We found the Graves of Emerald Keeper Havriet told of and walked places stolen from us. We gave to the graves but knew it was not to be home. Vaglelgar told me so. When we reached the lands soaked in blood I knew she spoke truth."

Arctos listened in stunned silence at how much Ga'laven was offering. He had mentioned his brother brother many times but never that he was human-blooded but every bit of information offered only formed new questions in their wake.

"The lands soaked in blood?" Ashiris asks, though the entire area of the Dales could very well hold that title.

"The land Andraste Chantry stole back from us. They place large stone's now, marking their acts." His face twists in disgusted anger, lip curling up in a snarl for a brief moment. "But the lands and river remember the blood. They build on our bodies and so they will also become bodies." the finality of his statement and tone which sounded nothing like himself sent a shiver down all three listeners spines. The words had not been spoken by a being of this realm. Ga'laven sighs heavily shaking his head at some thought or memory.  
"We crossed river, because that was how I found Wisdom but came to desert not forest. So I worried. Alas watched so I could sleep and learn to find Vaglelgar. Keeper Havriet would have been teaching me such things. I kept finding forest but not how to get to it. We thought maybe if is not real and I was always remembering Wisdom saying if I was knowing what I looked for I could be finding the way. Which was not helping us because I was knowing or thinking I was but we could not find. I was angry for not being able to call Vaglelgar but Alas said it was good. He told Olga to look every day but she could not find either."

"Wait, who's Olga?" this time Artos interrupts. 

"Olga is Alas' eagle. She will be finding me maybe if she like. She is probably thinking Lathvhen is to big. She does not like acting with people." twisting some to speak to his cushion.

Arctos smiles thinking back on the hundred or so times he had watched Ga'la scan the skies and tree's. 

"You traveled through the Dales and found the desert, the Western Approach I believe it is called?" Theras derails their side track, gaining a faint pout from Arctos.

"yes!" Ga'la exclaims. "The Desert and nord held the marsh lands. We did not want to be in desert, sand is scratchy and winds are hot. So we went nord, we did not like the marsh for walking so we found horses."

"Found?" Arctos again, revelling in hearing Ga'la speak so much. The question getting a nod.

"We had good for trade from our walkings. Furs, herbs, golds, and other things. We got good horses. I am thinking the lowlander-shem where scared of us. Alas was big, because his father was big." holding a hand a good six to eight inches above his own head. He saw the look from the others and cracked a wide grin. "I am so much smaller because mamae was so small, like Ashiris." 

"but you are not half human like him..." Ashiris questions not following how it applied to Ga'la.

Ga'la shakes his head "But my fathers grandmother was chasind-shem. She is also who put the magic in my blood."

The lounging elf counts back in his head the fact that Ga'la stood several inches taller than most in Lathvhen was very understandable now. 

"But your mother was full Elvhen?" Ashiris was sorting out the mess that was just presented to them.

"Yes. Her mother was from lowlandvhen clan but married Bothelg. She is where we get our colour from." rubbing exposed skin of her forearm. "father was light, but had black eyes. Mamae gave us her gold eyes and earth skin." 

Theras let them side track as discussed bloodlines, the younger elves sharing what little information they could of their families though admittedly Arctos' information was much less detailed than Ga'lavens. Still it calmed his heart to see their odd stray so relaxed and it was clear Arctos was quite smitted with him even when he was far less chatty. He let himself enjoy the moment around the fire, the tea helping to ease the aches of age and the company pleasant. He could allow himself this small moment with the responcibilities of Keeper not weighing so heavily upon his shoulders. He's brought back to the conversation by a nudge in his ribs from Ashiris who was giving their old friend a bemused smile before nodding towards the now wildly gesturing Ga'laven.

"It is having scales like a bargest but horns that curl sharp as blades. Clawed hands that rend and tear and nose that is long with more teeth than mountain pike. It makes terrible sound like snarl but like foot stuck in mud at same time... but is only size of fennec. So we did not htink they would be being to much trouble. Until they came in pack. Tiny teeth were very sharp, like arrow points. We gave up and ran but they got horse in end. Marshes is not safe place. I would not be going if I was you." He turned to say the last sentence to Arctos. 

Theras frown softly having missed the segway back back into the original point of interest. But was thankful to his friend for bringing him back from his wandering thoughts. As Ga'la had to go into further detail to Arctos of the horrible nature of these creatures he had named Gnawshers and why it was in fact a horrible idea for the other to go into the Marches that lay far south. 

"Then we left marsh behind to find grasses and in distance I see mountains and i know these mountains that I see. I almost cry because they are real, I was very happy. We found forest and hid deep so we could not be found but Andraste Chantry or Lowlandervhen and build home."

He stops abrupty realizing the next part of the tale, his face falling back to it's neutral state and his hand settling back to Arctos' arm as if he was checking to make sure the other was still there even while still leaning against him. The silence that settles was palettable about the long stretches of vibrant and boisterous speech.

"...and then Alas lost Andruil's favour. His arrow did not go clean. He found the stag choking on own blood and tried to end suffering... it stabbed Alas with horn returning wound.. I do not have strong magic in me.. I can not do healing..." his voice falling to the soft tones it normally held but strained and Arctos could see the tears pooling in his eyes.

"Vaglelgar told me to come nord after. She would not let me rest and then I fell in lake." finishing his tale in the short guarded manner he usually carried. 

Arctos does shift this time, sitting up and wrapping an arm around the younger elf and pulling him closer. Ga'la leans into him allowing the comforting warmth of the other to radiate against him as he tried to keep his mind from wandering down paths he did not want to think of. He wanted the good memories to haunt his dreams, the lazy summer nights watching the stars, the times spent hunting after Ga'laven had been given his first bow. The long but happy winters spent huddled in their furs as the blizzards piled the snow around their camp locking them in. Even the nights spent after they journeyed across the mountains and found the forest of Tirashan there where many good memories of building a home by a lake with high cliffs for jumping from. But all of those thoughts were soured at the moment by the melancholy of remembering they would never happen again. 

He found his mind wandering to the man he leaned upon now, his only conscious thought being that anyone willing to leap into freezing waters to save a stranger was worth trusting. Arctos had remained at his side while he was ill and since recovery they had ventured out for a few small hunting trips or kept to the fringes of Lathvhen. Ga'laven wasn't yet sure if it was where Arctos preferred to remain but the man never said anything of it. It was a good train of thought collecting up the pleasant memories he had already built in his short time knowing him.

Theras and Ashiris watched as the guarded expression melted from Ga'la's face and exchanged knowing glances to each other.


	9. The trouble with Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> non-linear  
> Ga'laven, Arctos, Elas, and Samahl.

He sat on the ground across from the demon Samahl. Elas had assured him it was quite safe but Ga'laven couldn't help but feel a little unnerved by the proximity of the pride demon. He watched silently as the young mage interacts with it, it was quite clear who was in control and Ga'la had to admit he was impressed.

"You are not being as trouble making as I would think." He finally speaks, his accent coming out in a slow drawl as he spoke what common he could so Elas would be able to understand him as well as the demon. He disliked speaking it, it felt forced on his tongue and knew it did not flow as smoothly when he spoke it as when others did as he chopped out words that seems unnecessary.

Samahl watches the stranger closely searching for any signs of a flaw he could exploit, other than the boys speech though none had presented themselves a large enough target.

"Are you calling me weak?" the demons voice rolled like low thunder hitched into a snarl despite the more delicate form which had been forced upon him.

"No, simply less strong." the elf counters. The unblinking stare of Samahl was admittedly unnerving but the demon followed Elas' bidding. "It is interesting. Your round between the two. The bettering of you makes Elas full of pride. He is feeding you. While his bettering also makes his mind more strong as you grow so he continues to be controlling you. I am just wondering where the round will break." his voice ended with the smallest show on concern for the mage. Their relationship was truly fascinating though Ga'la understood why Elas had made him promise to keep it secret. It would not be a thing that Lathvhen would approve of. Ga'laven has swore that so long as there didn't seem to be a threat he would say nothing to another soul.

"I will break it." the demon sneers not liking this 'friend' Elas brought along much. He reeked of other spirits and what flaws the young man had did not stem from pride... he could not feed off of him in hopes to break the bindings.

"You've been saying that for how many months now, Samahl?" Elas asks a cocky grin on his face. "and yet here you still are unable to even take a form of your own will."

Ga'laven watched the cock sure mage for a moment it was clear to see how the pride demon had ended up in his domain to begin with. He had been lonely, but as a dreamer the clan held him in high esteem even while locking him away for his abilities.

"If you do, I can not be trapping you like Elas. I am not that strong. But I can kill you." The certainty in Ga'la's works spoken with a sharp nod would have tasted very sweet to the demon if he hadn't sensed the truth behind the words. Ga'laven did not speak for himself he spoke collectively at that moment and Samahl could sense just would he would face if it did come to that. Pride would have let itself be bested however.

"You wouldn't be able to defeat me, child of the stag." pulling out the name from the whispers surrounding the boy. "and once I have slaughtered Elas and the rest of Lathvhen you would be alone once again and left for despair to consume you." Samahl sneers chipping at what fine cracks he could in his neutered state.

Elas caught the brief shift in Ga'la's expression as surely as Samahl had. The words bringing back memories to the mage of his own experience with Despair and how it froze ones blood, the images of Lathvhen slaughtered at his feet made his own stomach twist... What little he knew of Ga'laven included the knowledge that what Elas had only seen in the Fade as an illusion Ga'laven had actually lived through.

The hunter stands calmly, though the anger rolling form him was tangible to Samahl as he approached the bound demon, staring into the creatures eyes. His smooth actions where only temporary however for as soon as he stood before Pride his stance changes and before the demon could account for what would happen Ga'la swings with a left hook. Catching Samahl directly in the face and to the demons surprise actually knocking him to the ground. Samahl growls up at the hunter more than ready to tear into him if not for the sharp command from Elas.

Ga'la glares down at Samahl "I do not condemn you for your nature, Pride. But do not think I will let you toy with me." he spits the words before turning to Elas who was awestruck.  
"You are strong. Please be remembering that. Do not let Samahl trick you to be fool." placing his hand on the young mages neck firmly giving him a stern but caring look. One he had received from his brother countless times. "It is no easy thing to humble pride."

He steps away giving Samahl one last glance as the demon was busy brushing the dirt from himself in a vain attempt to look un-bothered.

"I am waking now. Halen and me have hunting. Be safe, friend." he says to Elas before walking away not allowing either being to say anything further.

Elas watched as Ga'la walked away his form fading out of the dream. The bemused look on Samahl's face told him well enough that the demons words had had their desired effect even if it cost him the blow to the face.

"That wasn't very nice, Samahl." The young mage Scolds.

"I think you forget. I am a demon, elf. I do not care of being nice if it does not get me what I wish." the demon grins "If you bring friends I will entertain myself with them as I see fit. He will do if you wish to bring him again." Samahl was certain if the other was brought around enough he could get one of several demons to come. If Elas had to bind two instead of just him it might weaken him just enough....

"If he even wishes to come back and only if you give your word you wont be cruel."

"Oh dear boy, I will give you nothing."

****

Ga'la woke. He hadn't intended to. He had wanted to leave and enter his own domain where he could find a place to calm the memories... but no place was forth coming, instead visions of torn bodies had crept into the fringes. The stink of blood, the silence as even the carrion feeders refused to touch the blighted dead.

A wave of nausea struck him and he scrambled from the tent, tripping over Arctos' sleeping form and stumbling the rest of the way barely making it more than a few paces from the entrance before the nausea won out and he lost what was left in his stomach from the meal hours before.

The violent waking paired with the sounds of Ga'la puking outside drew Arctos out from his cocoon of blankets quickly.

"Ga'la?" finding him bent over visibly trying to not continue puking as there was little else left in his stomach.

"I am good." he trails off attempting to wave Arctos away. "A dream gone sore." it wasn't a lie.

Fetching a water-skin from the tent Arctos bring it over offering it to Ga'laven who takes a long moment before taking it, using the water to rinse the taste of bile from his mouth.  
"It must have been pretty bad to that that sort of reaction.." Arctos comments, draping his arm around Ga'la's shoulders and pulling him closer. The young hunter was shaking.

"Come on."

Guiding Ga'la back into the tent he sits him down and wraps one of the many furs around his shoulders before coaxing a bit of life from the lamp hanging on the post and settling down next to him. He was content to sit in silence if that was what Ga'laven wanted, which was usually the case. He wouldn't press Ga'la for any information, and he knew there would most likely be none volunteered so he did what he could to offer some form of comfort.

"We burned them." his voice barely over a whisper.

"burned who?" shocked when Ga'la broke the silence first.

"Bothelg... Sky Wolf. Alas and me. We burned them. We burned for three days... We looked for all the pieces. There where so many pieces... and burned them all. Hoping the Lady and Falon'din would find them in smoke." The words pouring from Ga'laven unsteadily.

"I could not clean it from me. The smell. No matter how hard I was to scrub. I cut all hair from my head. We both did. We burned clothes because of it. And still it stained."  
As Ga'la spoke Arctos wrapped his arms around him once again. He knew there would be very little he could say to offer comfort but he could do that much at least. Ga'laven accepted, falling sideways into him.

"I can still smell it. Like it is part of me now."


	10. Retribution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arctos and Ga'laven  
> skipping supah far ahead.  
> Spoilers for Hart of the Bear loosely

Arctos approached the figure bound to the rune covered apparatus cautiously they hung lax against the metal cuffs and he could see blood fresh and old coating their forearms. He could see them breathing. His gut held a sinking feeling of recognition at the thin black line drawn down the being’s chest, though a great mantle of deep fur grew over their shoulders and back and the size was all wrong… Long hair still carried a few braids and twists of leather though most had come undone over the year and no charms remained darkened by filth and blood and a pair of haphazardly nubs unevenly poked from the mess of it. 

 

As he drew nearer the breathing became unsteady and the being shifted its weight. He heard Solas say something in a hushed voiced.. but the words where lost to him his mind unable to focus on anything but what… who… was before him. His feet stopping just before the binding circle on the ground.

 

“…Ga’laven?” he whispers, his voice shaking. 

 

Laughter, slow, deep, rumbling laughter came from the abomination as it rolled its head up. Eyes which glowed a molten gold opened and an unnerving smile full of fangs spread across it’s face.

 

“We have kept him safe.” His voice which came as a slow drawl was not his own, nor was it singular. Deep bass reverberated from his chest as a honey sweet tone overlaid.

 

Arctos stood, terrified and mortified at what he saw, and barely registering when Solas come up beside him.

 

“I had wondered what became of Ga’laven when they took him away.” The apostate says, he was both in awe and disgusted at the sight before him. Having had spoken with Ga’laven of the young hunter’s spirit friends in the past and even having met the spirit of guidance, if only once, in the fade. It pained him greatly to see not only the young elf but the once playful spirit so twisted. 

 

“We have waited for you, Halen. We knew you would come.” 

 

The voice sent a shiver down his back he couldn’t help but it was Ga’la… or was and he would not leave him here. Not like this. He digs through the chests and over the table which the room held. He didn’t bother to stop the tears which already started streaking his face. 

 

“Dorian… Solas… is there- can you break that circle?” looking to the two mages hopefully. He didn’t know how much strength Solas had in him, the mage’s deep sunken eyes stained with the lyrium he had been subjected to and sickly pale skin streaked with angry red veins which glowed ever so faintly.

 

“Is it even safe to?” Dorian asks pragmatically. Whoever the elf had been before, he couldn’t think it the smarted choice to set free an abomination.

 

“Yes. It can be done.” Solas answers as he studies the circle. Whatever the Spirits and Ga’laven had been twisted into due to the torment which they faced he at the very least would not allow them to remain bound to the world in such a state. 

 

“Ma serannas.” The abomination speaks.

 

Arctos ignored Dorian as he tried to preach reason over setting loose an abomination. Even if said abomination was formerly one’s lover. Finding a key which looked like it would go to the manacles on the mage they had killed upon finding the room and without hesitation moving to unlock them. He felt the eyes of the demon on him as he worked. Being closer allowed him to see more detail. So many new scars on his skin Arctos couldn’t count.. and while one eye still held an iris and pupil, slit like a foxes, the other socket held only the molten glow with signs of cauterization. As he worked on the locks he noted the talons which replaced nails and the light dusting of scales over his forearms. His mind couldn’t help but think of Ga’la’s descriptions of the spirits. Creatures with no form but that borrowed from several animals. He had described Strength to look like a bear with antlers and it gave Arctos a small pause as he looked to the sawed nubs. 

 

“You’re Strength.” Arctos says in awed recognition.

 

“We were once.” They confirm, a pleased grin on their face.

 

“And who are you now precisely?” Dorian asks

 

“We are Retribution.” The depth in the voice rumbled so low Arctos could feel it in his chest. As he freed them from the manacles they dropped their arms slowly in a serpentine like stretch rolling their shoulders. 

“Ma serannas, vhenan.” It drawls catching Arctos off guard with the affectionate term. He was uncertain of how to feel of it and very unprepared for when they reached out pulling him close by a hand behind his neck and kissing him firmly. 

 

Arctos could feel the heat rolling off Retribution, there was a deep seething rage which was palatable but beneath that… there was a pull which Arctos found undeniable and drawing him into deepening the kiss; which brought forth memories of long lazy travels, heated battles at his side, the rising pleasurable ache before climax, the comfort of silence, and the warm electric shock when Ga’la was anxious and would reach out and lightly touch his arm. He could have happily lost himself in that feeling for quite some time if Retribution had not pulled away leaving a soft ache in the pit of his stomach.

 

“I would advise against such actions.” Solas’s offers. “We must hurry if you are to return and ill will or not the Spirits which now guard Ga’laven are not harmless.” The Elven mage was watching both of them critically.

 

Dorian looked scandalized at what he just saw and the possessive glance from Retribution did not help the feeling any. He was feeling even more unsure of letting them from the circle. He knew the runes on the floor, and not only did it keep the creature within the confines of the space but also dampened its power. As he resigned himself to the fact that his warnings would be ignored Solas placed the staff found on one of the Venatori mages the passed on the way to the upper cells on the circle. 

 

With a moment of focusing Solas channels energy through the staff, relishing in the feeling of being able to cast once more now that he was free from captivity and the anti-magic aura’s which had been placed over his cell. As the runes power bend and finally cracked under the pressure he applied he felt the wave of energy which boiled from their friend. His heart aching all the more for what had become of them. His face twisted in sorrow for a moment as he opens his eyes to look at this new being, Retribution they had called themselves but it was clear that the spirit before him was a demon by the sickening feel of the energy. He could feel the rage and the pull of desire mixed in a turbulent force but for now, it was directed, it was focused, and if they succeeded in their plan would never come to be.


	11. Rest Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'Hari Lavellan and Solas

Some nights Fen would slip through the great hall and through the rotunda until bare feet found themselves at Solas’ door. Where should would slip inside using the spare key he had given her; not so much as for the romantic gesture but a pragmatic one as he learned quickly she would rap softly on the wood until he woke. Some nights; however, she would find him awake deep in his studies. Tonight was such a night.  
"You should be sleeping.“ she says as she gently clicks the door in place.  
"As should you.” He smiles softly.  
Her steps fell silently on the lush carpet he had laid down as she moved to join him at his desk. Arms wrapping around his shoulders she rests her head against his.  
"Nightmares keep me from my rest.“ she sighs.  
He takes her hand in his and raises it to his lips. "What troubles you, Vhenan?”  
"Dreams of Haven and scorching fire, biting cold, as I hopelessly tire.“  
He tries to hide a smile, it was obvious she had spent at least a few hours at the Heralds Rest earlier in the day.  
"What keeps you awake at such an hour, my love?” She continues peeking down at his work; a collection of elven writings they had recovered from the temples in the Dales and his book of notes spread before him.  
She did not envy the task he had set for himself. Even with his great understanding of written Elvish most of the writing where greatly deteriorated and piecing any information together would be difficult.  
"Mostly funeral scripts. Though a few give clue to locations to an artifact or two which may be of use. If such items have yet to be plundered.“ He explains.  
"Mmmmm” She hums placing a kiss a top his head before slipping away to claim his bed.  
Fen casts aside her house robe and buries herself under the thick blankets. Her room was too large, too much air. Solas’ however, was small and cluttered and warm and his scent was heavy, earthen, and like home.  
He watches her with a tinge of longing. The allure of sleep had already been great and his only resistance was his research. Now with Fen curled in his bed with an all too contented smile on her lips even that was made inert.  
Admitting defeat he abandons his work. Striping off the day’s clothes and joining her in his bed; not surprised to find her already asleep.  
" Theneras eth , Vhenan.“ his words soft as he wraps his arms around her.  
”..vhe…n…“ a murmured reply wake just enough to snuggle closer.


	12. Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'hari Lavellan, a snippet into some downtime at camp.   
> solavellan

The woods where silent as the party settled into camp, air thick with the scent of wild flowers and the moon arching a perfect bow in the sky already visible as the sun wound its way below the horizon. With the Graves secured they had time to relax and keep only minimal watch, and their chosen camp site was well tucked along a cliff side with a stone wolves watching over them.

Fen settled herself against the wolf as she normally did enjoying the feel of the cool stone on her back. The small sounds of camp around her were soothing. Cassandra’s blade on the whet stone, Cole had started humming an unknown song which brought a smile to Solas’ face while the mage tended to the fire. It was good. She looks up to the sky it’s deep reds fading to the dark of night between the tree branches. It had been a long while since they had had time to relax in such a manner while on the field and she let her mind wander.

" He is quite talented to have such control so young. “ Coles voice cut through the calm sounds. "That’s what the old keeper said. You where happy because your parents where happy. No one had ever been happy when you made the colours before.”

Fen went ridged looking over at Cole to see if he would say more.

"They said you had to go with the man, you where only a child and didn’t understand. If you didn’t make the colours again would they let you stay? They didn’t listen and he took you away, anger, fear, you missed them…and then he gave you away later when you couldn’t say the right things. Couldn’t be the right things. I don’t understand how could you be anything other than you?“

The sound of the whetstone ceased. The night birds still sang, insects buzzed but within the area of camp complete silence fell.

"Cole.” Solas starts softly

"You don’t have to be scared.“ The spirit continues. "You won’t be abandoned again we are your friends and we accept you.”

Fen looks to the others. Cassandra was staring at Cole, her unease apparent on her face at his tricks. Solas wore his usual mask, offering Fen a look of support. He had learned as much of Fen’s past as she had of his and only knew it was a subject she preferred to avoid for reasons he respected well enough.

"Thank you, Cole.“ Her voice shaky, but sincere.

"Inquisitor?” Cassandra inquires knowing how unsettling it could be when Cole focused on you. Even if his words did offer comfort more often than not.

She shakes her head waving away Cassandra’s worries before she could continue. Standing she gives the stone muzzle head a loving pat before excusing herself.

"I’m sorry.“ Cole frets. It was hard to know at times what would help and what wouldn’t.

"You needn’t worry, Cole. Fen is not upset with you.” Solas assures him before heading to follow Fen'Hari before Cassandra could voice her concern for the Inquisitor being alone even if the Graves where well patrolled.

Solas found Fen not far off by the creek where a small waterfall gurgled and the fireflies where starting to appear as bright motes of light over the pool it formed. Her hand was held outstretched with a swirl of colourful glowing butterflies and flowers in her open palm and a bittersweet smile on her lips.

"Are you all right, Vhenan?“ he asks softly as he approaches.

"I forgot about the colours.” she answers sadly. The butterflies taking flight and fading away as wisps of light as petals fall from her hand. “I was so happy when I did it the first time…. so eager to show my parents. Of course then it was just unformed wisps of coloured energy… but to me it was butterflies and flowers. I thought they would be so proud and happy I could make something so pretty.”

"But they weren’t?“ he took the opened palm in his own and pulling her closer.

"We already had a first and a second, a fourth mage in the clan was dangerous. I was lucky that that there was another clan nearby which could take me in as second.” She welcomed him, leaning against his body.

He wraps his arms around her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. He had heard plenty of stories of child mages left to the wilds to know the fortune Fen had had as a child. The thought disgusted and enraged him, for all their desire to cling to a past the Dalish seemed to find the worst of the past to reenact and with too much belief having bled in from Andrastrian teachings.

"I thought you were not the second but the Keepers first.“ Subtly prying for more information of his Vhenan’s past.

"Clan Lavellan is my third clan, I’m sure you could understand that enough from what Cole said. I… didn’t fit in well with Clan Dalae. While my ability to master magic was beyond the Keepers hopes to the point he started entertaining the idea of making me his first, I just wasn’t… right. I wasn’t right. When I was younger they could excuse it, I was just a child. It didn’t change as I grew older and enough whispers where said behind my back, the Keeper always wore a disapproving face. It only grew worse when I would talk to Fen'Harel.” she laughs nervously.

" Fen'Harel?“

She sighs softly, having gotten so used to hiding her thoughts it was odd to share so openly even with Solas.

"Asking him to take me away, I’d even make daily offerings. It was all silly childish stuff but I was only thirteen and very overly dramatic.”

Solas rests his chin on the top of her head, partially to hide the small grin. Her tendency to be overdramatic at times had little to do with age. “Cole is right, Vhenan. No matter your intricacies, you are accepted.”

"Thank you.“ Burrowing her head into the wolf pelt wrapped about his shoulders. She smiles at how had it always worked that when she needed something there was always a wolf nearby. Her hands find the jawbone hanging at the man’s chest running fingertips along the teeth well blunted by age.

"How many memories do you think are held here?” Peeking upwards. “There is so much history you’re dreams will most likely be quite full.”

"You could always join me in them.“ He smiles down at her barely able to catch sight of her eyes behind the shag of white hair.

"I would like that very much.” Moving to her tip toes to place a small kiss on his lips before stepping away.

"Shall we head back then?“

"Of course.”  
___  
The rain came down in sheets on the broken stone work road. The sentinel wolf which stood behind Fen'Hari the only thing which held any semblance to the world outside of the Fade. The muted sounds of children’s laughter echoed past and she took stalk of her surroundings. Saplings grew where ancient tree’s lay rotting on the ground in the waking world. An archway dislodged from its supports loomed ominously overhead while August Rams grazed on fresh grass bathed in the sunlight. There was certainly a scramble of memories around the watchful statue the trick would be if she could find Solas in the mess off it all.

Fen did as she usually did when looking for something. she climbed atop the wolf perching on his head to scan the area for any signs of life other than herself. Movement not too far off where the creek bed ran both overflowing and dry in varying places. Sliding from the wolves back she headed in the direction, if it wasn’t Solas or even if she never found him they could at least share their dreams in the waking world.

The younger mage was not hard to find and Solas took comfort in her predictability in some ways. He caught sight of her just as she slid off the statue heading towards something he couldn’t quite see. Hanging back he watched her for a time as she made her way without much hurry or aim but a smile on her face stopping to interact with bits of memories not all of which he could see..

She had quickly lost sight of the figure she had spotted and giving it up for a memory to chase later she stopped to view the flowers. Thousands of tiny white flowers covered a hill making it look like winter but the scent in the air was full of spring. She was debating on laying in the midst of them or not when something grabbed her up around the waist.

Fen’s shriek of surprise turned into a laugh as she realized it was Solas as he swung her in a circle. Snapped from the memory she had started to follow she became grounded in the memory closest to him and she felt the rain on her skin, heard the roar of the overflowing river, and the smell of wet earth filling her senses.

"You ass!“ she exclaims giving him a gentle smack as he sets her back onto her feet.

"You should pay more attention, Vhenan, it can be dangerous. Though I am sorry I scared you.” the playful look on his face told the truth, however.

"You didn’t scare me!“ she protests. "I had found a wonderful spring field and you grab me up into this!” Raising her hands to the rain pouring down on them both. 

"Spring fields do not guarantee happy memories.“Solas states.

"No, but they’re much dryer memories.” She beams at him, pulling up the hood of her robes. As easily as it would be to just step away from the memory enough to not get wet it was far less fun.

He shakes his head softly. “Shall we find the source?”

They followed the roadway wind buffeting the tree’s above them. It wasn’t long until they came across the watchful wolf two figures huddled together beneath its head in an attempt to stay out of the rain. To the north above the ridge which sat behind the statue sounds of revelry could be heard even above the rain and wind. Pieces of a tune carried over familiar to Fen as the song Cole had been humming earlier.

The memory fractured as they neared the source of the sounds, splintering into glimpses of individual moments shared; the exhilaration of a kiss, dread for what would come next, relief, weariness, all blending into one moment.

"It’s a field wedding!“ Fen exclaims as the realization hits her. "Given that they’re human, it has to be around or after the Exalted March.”

Solas simply smiles taking in as much of her enthusiasm as the fade itself.

"Parties over.“ Her face twists momentarily into a frown looking out into the wooded perimeter.

"It would seem you are correct.” His smile matching hers as he watches her follow memory snippets. The initial attack was silent, arrows finding their targets dutifully dropping the watchmen. A second volley began dropping the soldiers within camp. A quarter of them down before they were able to organize a defense as the wolves rushed into the heart of camp ahead of their elven knights. It was over in a matter of minutes the chaotic surge of emotions scattering the memory sporadically as lives where cut short. It ended with a wash of triumph, duty, and seething hate from both sides.

"I wonder if it was retaliation or initiation of conflict.“ fen asks, coming back to join Solas by his side.

"Does it matter in war?”

"I suppose not.“ She muses on the question. "Loved ones on both sides lost someone, most of which were simply following orders in a game of politics they didn’t fully comprehend…. Thank you.”

"Thank you?“ he cocks his head slightly.

"It’s an easy thing to forget when on the field. That the person you’re fighting doesn’t exist in a void outside of the battle. So, thank you. For reminding me.” She looks up at him, full of sincere smiles. “It also is a good reminder to not count on environmental factors to let ones guard down, and to take advantage of them myself.”

"Shall we see what else there is to learn?“ Solas asks, enjoying both the company in the Fade and Fen’s willingness to learn.

"Spring field?” Her eyes alight with curiosity.  
___

Solas was still sleeping when Fen woke which didn’t surprise her, sleep was something which came in short order for her these days. Being wrapped in his arms was a comfort though, and so she remained in the shared bedding until the stone which has somehow found its way under her hip forced her to move. The earliest of morning birds had begun their song, and while she knew Cole was most likely content keeping watch as they slept she felt guilty for leaving him with no company.

With a strong pull of will she abandoned the warm bedding and Solas’ embrace, to which he gives a small sound of momentary protest before resettling. Slipping from the tent she shivers, early morning chill replacing the air of a body heat warmed tent. Stroking the fire back into a blaze was simple, a new log and a little coaxing with magic and it was burning hot once more.

"Cole?“ She asks into the shadows surrounding camp knowing he was somewhere.

"Yes?” Appearing beside her as he often did.

"Just wondering where you had wandered off too.“ She smiles, settling onto the log Cassandra had been using as her seat.

"I was watching.”

"I know, and thank you.“

The boy settled onto the earth where he had been sitting before everyone had retired to their tents.

"I did not mean to make you sad. I wanted to help.” He says.

"I know Cole. It’s… complicated, kind of like Dorian’s hurts, but not.“ Fen explains.

"I see.” His tone implying that he didn’t actually understand what she meant, simply that it was much more complicated. “How… are you not right? You can’t be someone other than you. How is being you not right?” he echoes the familiar question he had asked Dorian.

"… People see things differently than you. You see, me… you can look, I’m okay with it if you do. If it would help you understand.“

"The words stab, stick, rend. Like electricity. Body not right. It was okay before. Now it’s not, now it’s wrong. The reflections wrong. Their words, like serpents bites… slow to poison, but it builds. They chastise. You tell them you but they don’t care. He. Him. It stings. Like the stones thrown by the other children. The adults look at you with pity. So promising they say, but wrong in the head. If only he would stop this. He’ll bring the dread wolf to our door. He shouldn’t be here.” He falls silent, his face torn with sorrow.

"It’s okay, those are wounds which are the past. They’re healing, sometimes things take awhile, but you, Solas, Cassandra. You’re all helping them heal. The Dalae Clan… has it’s ways of preserving Elvhen culture. I didn’t fit into their idea of it all. Clan Lavellan was more accepting…“ Fen comforts.

"But they weren’t. You simply lied to them. Told them what they wanted not what you meant.” He furrows his brow in confusion. “Not everyone accepts. there is anger and pain there. Family that is not Family who causes the pain. They are no different, but they pretend to be. You pretend to be.”

Fen laughs weakly “I suppose you’re right on that. We learn to take the roles given us. They did allow me to be more.. me I was not made to be Torin.”

"You’re face is a lie.“ His words blunt. "That’s what she says.”

"yep.“ she shrugs.

"Why?”

"Because I had to appease them, I had to chose. Given that there is no Vallaslin for who I would like but I would not be recognized as an adult without it I chose what would appease the clan the most.“

He thought on the reasoning for a moment before nodding softly. Sometimes, he had learned, one must do what was needed and not what was wanted in order to find happiness.


	13. Messing With Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'hari Lavellan.  
> Post Corypheus...

The amulet glimmered in her hands as she turned it this way and that. Guilt knotted her stomach, she had taken it from Dorian under pretence of study. He had given it over without a second thought, knowing full well she of all people would never be tempted to use it. Now, holding it in her hands memories of the false future she had been sent to with the Tevinter mage flooded into her mind. Memories of Haven burning, of the trek through the mountains, all those who died due to her lack of knowledge of the enemy.

She could go back, change small things, save maybe one more life, take another… Alexius’ words rang in her head no matter what one does, it won’t change…

She didn’t want to change everything only… cherish her time with him. Maybe, if she placed ignorant about what she knew and made the same choices. She had changed the future once before; maybe she could find a way… and even if she changed nothing, she would still have more time with him.

Fen'Hari laughed readily, a grin always quick to her lips, she carried herself with the same pride that most Dalish do, but something was off. Solas found himself watching her more closely since Redcliffe. There was a deep seeded sadness to her eyes and a wariness to her face when she believed no one was looking that he had only seen on veterans of long forgotten wars and he often caught her staring at him, as though she was close to tears.

When she had first seen him since returning to Haven for debriefing she had grabbed him in a tight embrace, shaking arms clinging to him as though she was seeing a lover alive once more. At a loss he simply help her trembling form until she broke away.

"I saw you there, in the future.“ was all she said on the matter.

Since then Fen had kept her distance. Where once she sat nightly to hear him tell tales of his journeys and ask endlessly on spirits and the fade now only emptiness hung. He found her absence leaving a surprising ache.

"It’s for the best.” He found himself saying as he sipped his tea and finding it a shallow comfort. He was contemplating abandoning his attempts to sleep when a soft rapping on his door drew his attention.

He peered out the cracked door, shocked to find Fen'Hari there wrapped in her thick blanket.

"I was wondering if you could tell me about your adventures in the Fade.“ Her familiar sentence brought a smile to Solas’ lips.

"Of course.” He opened the door wide to let her in. "What would you like to hear?“ He fell easily into the steps of their usual dance, if he had had the mind he would be ashamed for the amount of relief seeing her on his doorstep brought. For now, however, he welcomed the spark as he crafted a mug of tea for Fen who was already curling up in her usual arm chair.

"Tell me of the places you’ve seen.” Her requests always vague, allowing Solas to choose what to share.

Solas thinks on what he could tell her, of all the places he’s seen in life and in the Fade. A place settled in his thoughts of when the Elvhenan where at power. Those tales always seemed to enthrall Fen the most and he wanted to take her away from whatever thoughts had been plaguing her since returning from the nightmarish future she had seen.

Fen had heard the story before, she had even seen the temple he spoke of in person… if not a bit more worn than in his Fade dream now mostly broken pillars and a few slabs of stone but it had such energy about it that her skin had tingled. His voice was soothing, and the tea given calmed nerves on edge. She hadn’t allowed herself to come close for fear that he would somehow know or that she would slip up and let out a torrent of emotions which should not exist just yet. She let his words carry her away to the place once more of fountains and archways, ancient songs and murals. Solas made it sound alive and speaking of it made him seem so much more alive.

He took comfort in how the wariness melted from Fen’s face as he spoke. For the first time in the week since Redcliffe her smile seemed unburdened. Solas made sure to leave out no detail, lest she hound him with questions as she was known to do. Soon he heard the soft sound of snoring from the chair which prompted him to smile.

With a soft sigh he scooped her from the couch and placed her on his bed. Sleep would have to wait a bit longer for him it seemed and so he placed a new log on the fire and settled into the chair. For now he could find himself content to watch her sleep and wonder the dreams she walked.


	14. Escaping it All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'Hari  
> After the Defeat of Corypheous before trespasser

She sat at his desk staring at the papers and small items scattered across it. The pain was still fresh, still stung like a nest of Hornets. She pleaded with the whispers of Mythal’s priests to give her an answer, any answer, as to why Solas would leave but no answer was given. Would they remain silent now that Corypheous was defeated? After all; that had been the only thing she had asked for out loud even when every fiber of her being had been begging for answer about her people past; the truth of it all… maybe they would guide her more subtly from now on…

For now all she could do was stare at his notes, hoping they would give some clue as to why he would leave… Another world, what had he meant by that?

Turning from the notes she takes in the fresco’s Solas had created of her.. no their feats, eyes setting on the last which remained looking unfinished. “I would have gone with you… left this all if you had only asked…” her words sounded flat in the large space, even the birds in the rafters far overhead were quiet tonight.

"instead you left me here, alone..where no one else will hear only my words against a god they decided for me as heresy…“ choking back tears. "Why can’t I bring myself to do the same, just vanish and let it all crumble. Let them think it’s some damned divine calling and their fucking maker took me away.. just another verse to add to their damned songs..”

" ‘and then the Herald vanished’ it lacks tension.“ Varrics voice startled her from her thoughts, the blood running from her face as she realized she had been speaking out loud. "Though, I suppose it is how the Hero of Ferelden and Champions’ tales end so it’d make for a consistent trilogy.”

“Varric! I…” wiping the tears which had begun to escape from her face. “I didn’t see you come in…”

“I could tell. You may want to hold off on cursing the Maker until you’re in less public area’s though.”

She lets out a forced chuckle as the dwarf takes the other chair. “Not like they pay much mind to whatever I say about it anyway…”

"I know it’s not just about him; but I just want to say if Chuckles is stupid enough to leave you behind, he doesn’t doesn’t deserve you. The rest of it, well I'm not good at that sort of thing.“

She half heartedly smiles. "Thanks.”

"So, you really don’t believe in the Maker?“ Varric asks curious after all that they had gone through, she certainly seemed protected by some divine force or another.

"Why should I?” shrugging “It was an Elven artifact that was a key to the fade, to the beyond where my gods are said to be locked. A miss fired spell and very brave woman sent and saved me from the fade, not some ages old prophet.. and I’ve met one of my gods… kind of.. In all this crazy shit I have only seen proof that my gods exist, while the Maker was only a word on peoples lips. Andraste was just a woman like me, thrust into a position out of need. How much of what actually happened do we know? You hear the tales they already have of me.”

"When you put it like that, you have a point.“ Varric concedes, leaning back and kicking his feet up to rest on the desk. Causing Lavellan to quickly grab one of the small relics lying a bit too close to his boots for comfort.

"Is it so hard to believe?” looking down at the small statuette. “We have met elves from the ancient times. Found relic after relic, seen so much of my history… I hold so much knowledge of what started legends and myths..” she had expected, after it all was over, to have Solas’ help in sorting it all out. Now there was only his notes, half of which she couldn’t read due to his knowledge of ancient Elven writing. 

"People don’t like being told what they believe is wrong.“ the dwarf answers.

"But they certainly like to tell it to others.” Lavellan counters. “Cassandra, at the very beginning back in Haven, asked me why there couldn’t be room for one more god in my beliefs. I wanted to deck her. She expected me to take up her god, but couldn’t look at it from the other side… You only have one god, plenty of room for more. My faith in my gods is as strong as hers in yours, yet it means so little to those who support me….”

A long silence fell between them, both traveling their thoughts. “You know.” Varric says to break the silence. “I don’t think anyone would honestly blame you if you did vanish for a time. It does seem to be what all the great heroes of Thedas do. Plus, I’d be able to spin a wild tale when I finally write it all down.”

"Cassandra’d skin you alive if she hears you told me that.“

"Most likely, But sometimes there’s things that need to be done. And I know that if we ever need you, you’ll come back.”

"thank you, Varric. For listening… I know your fai-“

"nah, don’t bother with all that.” waving off the forthcoming apology. “You have the right to be mad at the whole lot of us.”

"I need some air and the open sky to pour my thoughts into.“ she says leaving the room which was rich in memories.

She let a week pass, and then two. Charting out pathways on maps she kept tucked away in her room. She’d have to leave her favourite stead, the hart which had been a gift from her clan, behind. The thought broke her heart, and she entertained the notion more than once of asking Cole or Varric if they could sneak the beast to another city in a few months time. She made several maps, plotting ways to the Emerald Graves and Exalted Plains. Even back to the Free Marches where her clan roamed, but she knew she’d travel none of those ways, leaving them as rouses and hoping Lelianna would take the bait enough to spread her scouts thin. With any luck, the spymaster wouldn’t think of Kirkwall being an option for a very long while given the knowledge that the ancient Elven lands had always been Lavellans favourite territories to explore.

The air was frigid, and the wind buffeted against her as she walked the ramparts to her favourite tower eyes up at the sky looking for constellations she knew to be up there.

"Thoughts, rushing and crashing like waterfalls.” Coles voice cut through the wind. “you’re..leaving?” She wasn’t sure how long he had been walking beside but she was happy that he had appeared.

"Cole,“ pausing her walk to face him. "I was hoping to find you, or have you find me.” a genuine smile reaching her face.

He furrows his brow, reading more than just her face. As much of scrambled mess her thoughts where, the loudest thought was that she wanted to run, to escape, it didn’t matter to where at the moment just to get away from Skyhold and everything it meant. “You hurt. Like daggers in your heart.. or falling into a wasps nest. ”

She nods softly “I do.. which is why I want your help. If you’re willing to accept the burden of everyone’s ire if they realize.” Her eyes hopeful and apologetic at once.  
"I want to help.“ smiling "You don’t need to be sad about asking me.”

"Thank you.“ she says, stepping forward and giving him a hug.

"He hurts too. For the same and different reasons. But he can’t change what he is anymore than I can.” Cole offers softly.

"…“ she hadn’t asked, but should have expected Cole to offer what comfort he could. "will you know where I am?”

"Probably.“

"Do you, do you know where he is?”

"no.. he stays away.“

"is he safe?” stepping back to watch the spirits face.

Cole hesitates, it was a very complicated question to answer. “Yes.” deciding on the answer which would sooth Lavellan the most. “he won’t be hurt.”

"Thank you.“ she says again, adding a small kiss on his cheek to her fairwell. With a new sense of both relief and ache she heads for her quarters to gather her things which she had squirreled away for the last two weeks, rations enough to get her through the mountains, a scouts uniform and weapons, they were mostly for show but thankfully she would be able to handle the blade well enough against any common foe due to the training with the knight-enchanter, and a pair of thick gloves to hide the Anchor. Newly crafted robes where hidden away in the bottom of her pack though she would have to leave her staff, too noticeable. She had dye from the alchemist to change her silver hair to chestnut once on the road, and a good stain to create temporary Vallaslin to aid in her traveling incognito.

Once everything was in order she slips out through the dark passages and hidden doors through Skyhold, trusting in Cole to ensure she would at least make it out of the fortress without anyone having memory of a lone scout slipping by in the early hours of the morning.

By the time the sun broke over the mountains she was miles away traveling off the roads and trusting the wind to sweep away her trail.


	15. Upgrades~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'Hari Lavellan  
> Post-Trespasser

"Hold still a bit longer, Inquisitor.“ Dagna says biting her lip in concentration. “Just a little-”

The sharp pain the explodes through Fen’s nerves causes her to scream, nearly falling off of bench as she ripped her arm back from the arcanist. Her arm.. no, it wasn’t hers. It was made of metal and leathers, lyrium veins engraved in intricate patterns.. it was on her body, she could feel it as the initial pain retreated but it was not her arm.

She gasp for breath, nerve ending coming back to life which had gone dormant since Solas had removed the anchor, and with it an arm of flesh and blood.

"Sorry!“ Dagna squeaks, half in alarm and half in excitement. She hadn’t been able to guess how the lyrium would react when the arm was activated.

"It’s okay. I’ve felt worse…” Fen offers staring at the prosthetic. It was so much more when on her body than when she had inspected it on Dagna’s table.

"Well, give it a go! wiggle your fingers!“ Dagna says

Fen was amazed at how natural it felt, lifting her arm and opening and closing her hand. Individual fingers took a bit of thought but the sensation was amazing. Turning her hand over she chuckles, the smooth gem imbedded in the palm glowed a faint green as the lyrium pooled behind the tinted surface.

"Thought it was a nice touch.” The dwarf states proudly.

"It is.“ fen smiled, the glow of the anchor had become familiar to her over the years. "thank you, Dagna.” she adds softly.

"I need to run some tests to see if it’s in tune with you.“ Dagna says as she moves to her work table, grabbing several items.

Over the next few days they spent time fine tuning the fit and having Fen get used to grabbing objects and how it felt to feel through lyrium infused leather instead of skin and nerve. Soon the limb felt as if it had always been part of the mage.


	16. In need of the Healer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abhel and Cohnal Jader, young twins who live in the kirkwall alienage during the time of the Champions rise.
> 
> Timeline wise: This takes place some time during Hawkes first year in Kirkwall.

It was late. They knew it was late and very unsafe for the two of them to be wandering Darktown but they needed to speak to the healer urgently. Cohnal led the way as Abhel kept a sharp eye out for anyone looking to do more than take notice of the two young elves from the alienage. They reached the open walls overlooking the water before risking risking a look at the map scratched on a scrap of parchment. 

The lamp was burning low. While the clinic held regular hours those in need knew that the doors would open for an emergency. The twins considered this to be such. Even if no one needed healing. Abhel knocked on the door. Softly at first but when no answer came he tried again with more force.

Anders had just settled at his desk with a hot cup of tea in hand to get him through the tedium of doing inventory when the knock sounded. It was so soft at first that he nearly thought it was just his imagination. A second knock was enough to rouse him from his chair. On opening the door he ws surprised to find he two small elven children staring up at him with pale eyes framed by dark hair and russet skin and aside from the pattern of freckles they were a perfect match for each-other. 

He looks around for any sign of an adult which could e with them and seeing non a frown crossed his face.

"Are you serah Anders?" Abhel speaks.

"Yes..." He was weary, it wasn't above some to use orphans to lure people into traps. 

"The healer?" The child implores. "We... we need your help real bad, serah."

"Come inside." Anders says, ushering the children in and giving one last look before locking the door up behind, just in case.

"Would you like something to eat?" he didn't have much but he wouldn't let to small children go hungry.

"No, we've pleny for supper... but we really do need your help and we were told you would be the best to ask..." Ahel answers while this time Cohnal kept a watchful eye on the mage.

"What is it you need?" neither boy looked injured or ill so Anders decided whatever it was it was the reason they had no adult with them.

"It's our sister, serah. She..." the boy bit his lip looking to his brother for support. Even as brave as he usually was if the wrong ears overheard it would be bad.

"Our sister, she's a mage." he nearly whispers. "She's only six, Serah. But she's showing signs already and mamae is scared they'll take her away like they did papa." trying hard to hide the tears welling up in his eyes.

Anders sits on the end of his desk seeing the fear and hope in their young eyes as he tried not to think of his own fears as a young child beign taken to the circle.. he had been twice the age and with the notorious reputation of Kirwall... it sent a shiver down his spine.

"Where is she now?" His tea and inventory could wait for now.

"At home with mamae." Cohnal speaks up. "does that... does that mean you'll help?"

"I don't know what all I can do. But I'll try."


	17. Role Model?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cohnal Jadar and Anders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love trans Anders' headcannon and you WILL NOT take it from me. *burries it deep deep in the deeproads for safe keeping*

At the age of ten the twins were more than old enough to wander around on their own, at least they thought so. They're mother worked long hours at the clothing shop to provide for them and they spent most of their day watching over their younger sister and running errands for various shops, sometimes paid often not. They enjoyed the jobs they didn't get paid for, or else they wouldn't do them. Usually it involved bringing supplies to Anders' Clinic or delivering notes and messages to various places or simply helping with chores and cleaning.

"thank you Connie." Anders says accepting an armful of linens.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Cohnal asks.

"you can tell me anything." The mage answers

"..I don't like that name." 

"oh? would you prefer if I called you Cohnallie?" Using the childs full name.

"Maker no." Cohnal pouts

"then what?"

"I like Cohnal." 

"Okay Cohnal it is then." Anders smiles taking a moment to study the kid. "do you mind if I ask why?"

"well..." Cohnals face puckering in apprehension. 

"If you don't want too, that's okay." 

"You wont tell anyone?" 

"wardens honor." Anders crosses his fingers over his heart.

"...you're not a warden." the child counters.

"Technically I am. It's not something you can just... stop being."

"You're not very good at being one." 

The child's flat tone brought a light throaty chuckle from the mage as he stuffs the linens into the cupboard. 

"So what is this second secret?"

"I'm not really a girl." Cohnal says bluntly. "Mamae likes to think I am. But I'm not." 

Anders stops turning towards the child. The confession didn't shock him overly, given how the siblings all referred to Cohnal as their brother... it wasn't a very well kept secret in that manner but the adults in their lives believed it to be a game they played. He did feel honoured that Cohnal would tell him directly. 

"..." Cohnal shifts waiting for Anders' reaction expecting him to laugh and dismiss him like their mother did when the twins had told her.

"well you would know best if you are or not." the mage says

"thats... it?" the child's face twisting in confusion. 

"Would you like a party? It wouldn't keep it very secret, but we could have one." 

"No! that's weird."

"then what else would you like me to do?" chuckling softly

"well it's. Everyone else I've told other than Abhel and Hannah told me I'm wrong. I'm a girl and that's just what it is." 

Anders smiles, crouching down to be eye level with Cohnal. 

"Want to know a secret about me?" 

"what."

"I'm the same. They thought I was a girl when I was little too."

Cohnals mouth drops open and eyes go wide staring at the mage. "Really?"

"mhmm" He nods. "so I meant it when I said you'd know better than anyone. And even if you change your mind later it's still okay to be a boy right now and then a girl later if that's what you want. It doesn't matter, you're an amazing kid either way." 

Anders was not prepared for Cohnal to practically pounce him with as large of a hug as the tiny elf child could muster, his face planted into the feathery shrug. He was thankful for how small Cohnal was, any larger and he would have toppled them both over. Laughing he returns the hug. Moments like this made the struggles of maintaining the clinic worth it.


	18. Healer's Apprentice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah Jader

It had been six years since the twins had approached the apostate mage who healed the sick and injured and never asked for anything. He had agreed to help their sister Hannah learn to control her magic and even at her age she had picked it up quickly. Almost faster that Anders had been able to learn the gestures and signs that the family used to communicate with the deaf girl. The family had shown it's gratitude every day since, the twins working as runners to bring Anders' messages from various places and even helping keep templar's off his tail no matter how often he protested. The children found their way to the clinic regularly and helped clean or stock while their mother was working, with Hannah being a recent addition; and often they would bring meals packed by their mother to make sure the man ate during his long hours.

Hanna was at the clinic today. Bright eyes and eager to help with the chores when Anders caught her attention, it was common for him to ask for a bandage to be brought or a salve. She was surprised when he beckoned her over. 

"Do you want to try something new today?" He signs. 

"Something new?" She repeats, cocking her head.

"Would you like to try healing my patient?" 

Her eyes go wider than saucers. She looks to his patient, Allan Hawke. Hannah knew him as he visited often and would occasionally bring treats for her and her siblings. A quick discerning look over him told her his injury wasn't major, a gash on his arm which would need stitches or magic. 

"Are you sure?" Looking up at him her face creased with uncertainty.

Allan nodded and the mix of excitement and fear in her eyes caused him to laugh. Biting her lip she looks up at her mentor.

"How?" 

"I'll help." 

Nodding with determination she steps closer holding her hands out... completely at a loss of what to do. Anders chuckles taking her hand and placing it over the wound gently. 

"think of fixing. warm. whole." he signs while channelling a small amount of healing energy so that should could feel it.

Closing her eyes she concentrates of pooling energy into her hand. She pictures the arm how it looked uninjured. Imagines the blood stopping and the flesh knitting back together. The warmth in her hands tingled like tiny sparks that happened after your leg fell asleep. A pat on the head opens her eyes and pride swelled in her chest on seeing that the wound was near closed but she was tired and couldn't maintain the spell. The wide smiling faces of Allan and Anders met her own as the patient ruffled her hair. 

"I did it! I really did it!" almost stumbling over her signs in excitement.

"You did!" Anders replies "Grab some bandages and we'll wrap it up so it can heal the rest of the way naturally. You did really good." 

She bounds over to the cabinet and throws open the doors, her enthusiasm halted abruptly turning around her pouts at the men.

" I'm too short. Can you reach them for me?"


	19. Introductions to the Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jadar twins

It was their day off from duty and the Jadar brothers where taking full advantage of it. They had explored out from around their post in the valley every day familiarizing themselves with the area. Through these explorations they had discovered a small artillery creek which broke away from the lke with small cliffs, boulders, and tree’s which gave it a sense of relative solitude while still being able to look up and see Skyhold standing on the mountain over head. It reminded the boys of the small garden in their alienage which held a view of Hightown back in Kirkwall but at a much grander scale.

Cohnal had settled at the base of a tree bundled against the cold the small fire they had made not quite strong enough on its own but it kept his feet warm as he perched a book on his knees. Brow furrowed in concentration as he mouthed the words silently. Trying desperately to ignore the small twigs which Abhel dropped down on him from where he lounged in the crook in the branches. Small giggles escaping every time one would bounce off Cohnals head and earn an upwards glare.

The fifth time a larger twig bounced away Cohnal opened his mouth to scold his brother when he was cut off by a sharp gesture, the playful twin now staring intently further down the stream. He taps his ear twice and points in the direction causing Cohnal to focus as well.

Sure enough someone’s voice was approaching. It was relaxed and unhushed but not speaking trade common causing both brothers to perk in interest as they heard the melodic flow of elven and their personal excitement at being able to understand a few scattered string of words.

“” A young man’s voice that was crisp but pitched slightly with annoyance as he drew near enough to be full heard. “”

Both brothers had heard the last line often enough from their friends Dalish mother to know them by heart even if the name was different, the familiar line bringing a grin to both their lips. The grins shifting to looks of surprise as an actual wolf rounded a boulder and into view. Pausing when it see’s Cohnal still sitting under the tree.

“” the voice cut short as the speaker nearly trips over the beast. For a long silent moment both elf and beast stared at Cohnal, having not noticed the second in the branched.

“Ir abelas! I’m sorry!” The Dalish boy exclaims at last “We didn’t know anyone else wandered around here, We didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“It’s okay.” Abhel responds from the tree, causing the blond stranger to jump and look upwards. “You can join us if you’d like.” dropping from his perch and offering a large smile.

The beast gives a soft growl backing up against its companions legs receiving an absent minded pat of reassurance.

“Join you?”

“Unless you have something better to do.”

“The Inquisitors clansmen probably has dozens of things more important to do than sit around with a couple of foot soldiers.” Cohnal interjects

Abhell frowns looking over to his brother who had remained seated and fidgeting with the book. He could tell by Cohnal’s tone he was as hopeful as himself that the stranger would stay.

“Clansmen?” He looks first at Cohnal then the wolf at his legs as if it could give answers.

“You’re Aurin, right? One of Inquisitors clansmen?”

“Well yes.” Aurin was somewhat taken aback that the other would know who he was, not thinking himself particularly news worthy and he knew the general masses believed they to all be from the same clan but it was easy to forget do to how little he actually did interact with those outside of his small circle.

The young soldier grinned at the fact his guess was correct not that it wasn’t a well educated guess. Gossip of what took place in the Fortress above the valley was common place amongst the soldiers and a small pack of “savage elves” was a particular favourite topic of some circles.

“I’m Abhel and this is Cohnal. You’re clan’s from the Free Marches, right?” Abhel says hoping to bait Aurin into staying with conversation. “We’re from the Free Marches, well, Kirkwall ourselves. Born and raised in the city but you probably could’ve figured that out.” He grins wide

Aurin returns the grin with a smile which barely brushed his lips, the bait was set and seemed to be the proper lure.

“Kirkwall?” His interest piqued. Aurin looks down at the wolf arching a brow in an unspoken question which caused the animal to wine softly in response.

“All right…” sighing softly, though he was the one who was at first eager to head back to Skyhold. “I do have other business. I was nice to meet you.”

“Aye, you as well Serrah Lavellan.” Cohnal says with a nod.

“We’ll be here again about the same time tomorrow if you’d like to join us.” Abhel adds grin still large on his face.

The Dalish elf responds with only a nod as he turns to leave. The wolf following close behind giving a look back at the twins


	20. Damsel in Distress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvana Hawke, Fenris.   
> Pre-relationship

Sylvana had no clue how she had let her mother talk her into coming. She would have much rather had friends over to her estate or even just crowded into the Hanged Man for a Satinalia party, but her mother had practically begged her to make an appearance and she had given in. The party was oozing the snobbish persona of Hightown nobility and she couldn’t tell if it was that or the constricting gown she had been stuffed in that made her more uncomfortable

The gown was apparently very fashionable… in Orlais. The corset sat low, barely covering her chest and creating more of a platform for her breasts than any support and ran low on her hips making it almost impossible to sit in any form of comfort, much to the chagrin of her feet shoved into dainty heels though even without the corset she was unsure if she would fit into any seat smaller than a couch given the volume of skirt, certain the fabric could have been used for ten dresses instead of one. The blouse was so sheer she felt as if there was no point to it with a high roused collar and a window which exploded what little cleavage the woman had. She was thankful for the brocade jacket which clasped in front even if the high stiffly flared collar felt like a gorget and the puffed sleeves felt ridiculous. Thankfully when her mother had it made she kept Sylvana’s favourite colours in mind, keeping it subdued earth tones with the boldest colours being the bronze accents and the rich green of the skirt unlike the garish colours worn by most of the guests in their attempt to keep up with Orlesian high-fashion.

She had somehow been roped into a conversation with a young man named Boren, or perhaps Borris? She couldn’t recall and the only reason she remembered any part of it was due to how boring the entire interaction had proven to be and the pun had made her chuckle. He was presently going on about the hardships of not knowing where to spend his ‘meager wealth’ in either land or investing in a business when Sylvana tactfully removed herself.

“I’m sorry Serah Borris, but I am not interested in this conversation.”

“Excuse me?” He blinks. Her bluntness putting him off guard. Or perhaps his name was Boren after all.

“It’s just that I have no interest what so ever as to where you spend your father’s money. So if you’ll excuse me, I am in dire need of some fresh air.” Perhaps she was less tactful that she should have been. But the man’s shock allowed her time to slip away before he could speak further.

After a brief stop to gather another glass of wine she snuck away down quiet hallways and found a dark study with a small balcony. Stepping outside she took as deep a breath as the corset would allow leaning against the stone railing and relishing in the quiet night air. She watched the stars for some time hoping to see one shoot across the sky until movement in a neighbouring courtyard caught her eye.

She was shocked when she recognized the figure. If not for the barely visible glow of the lyrium brands she probably would have missed Fenris completely in the darkened courtyard but for the occasional flicker of light which reflected from his sword as he moved. There was no target, no rush or hurry in his movement but a slow measured pace. She marvelled, able to trace his movements by the soft glow. She held his sword once or twice in the past and knew it’s weight yet he treated it as though it was nothing.

A thought came to mind and she pulled the small focusing crystal that she had tucked away into her corset. Channelling a small amount of energy into it creating a soft light before flashing it a few times to catch the attention of the elf down below. Knowing he had seen it when his movements stop abruptly.

Fenris didn’t usually risk going out into the courtyard, but the manor had felt to stifling even with the chill which clung in the air from abandoned rooms which no longer held the memory of warmth. He had moved outside after watching the estates which surrounded the derelict manor; when all seemed quiet and dark but for one with inhabitants too busy with their merriment to be much worry and with few windows and one small balcony which afforded any view of his old master’s manor.

Moving through his routine, his mind clear and focused as he flowed from one stance to another when a flashing light caught his eye cursing himself for becoming to inattentive. He couldn’t see who cast the silhouette and knew only that they wore a gown. One of the party guests it would seem but he did'not if they had seen him or what had caused the flashing light.

The light flashed again in a pattern he knew, but they shouldn't have. The group had many ways of communicating non verbally. One of which being a code made of short and long bursts of either sound or light. That anyone outside of the group knew the code they had developed themselves worried him.

“H-A-W-K-E” the lights flash.

For a moment his blood runs cold, was she in trouble?

“H-A-W-K-E-?” using his sword to reflect back.

“Y-E-S. B-O-R-E-D. P-L-E-A-S-E. C-O-M-E. G-E-T. M-E.”

Fenris stared up at the figure, was that truly Hawke? The silhouette cut a rather unique figure if it was, the image of her in his mind consisting of either simple tunic and breeches or her armour which while flattering was functional instead of fashionable.

“P-L-E-A-S-E. W-I-N-E. I-S. B-A-D.”

A tiny grin on his lips. It was most definitely Hawke on the balcony unless one had spent enough time researching to know that this was where Fenris lived and previous conversations the two had. The coincidence of her being in attendance to the party and both of them ending up outside at the same time able to see each other was not lost to him and he spent a few brief seconds of wonder on the fact.

“I. W-I-L-L. B-E. T-H-E-R-E. S-H-O-R-T-L-Y.” he flashes back. Stopping just before reaching the door back inside and looking up at her framed in a soft halo of light on the balcony the stars cascading around the darkened manor. Like a scene from one of the silly romance serials she had tucked away on her library shelf and an idea creating a smile. Quickly he changes direction and with a few running steps for momentum makes it over the first high wall into the neighbouring yard hoping there were no dogs on guard.

Confusion was first reaction when she saw Fenris turn away from the door. When he vanished behind the wall and then over her heart leapt. What could he be up to? It was faster than the maze of streets, yes. But what if someone saw? As he appeared over the next wall and into the yard below her she tries desperately to hide her smile behind her hands as he looks up. Light catching his eyes for a moment and igniting them into a bright green. Her heart raced and she felt like a giddy child, quickly looking back into the study to make sure there was still no one around. Fenris took to climbing a nearby trellis. 

"Fenris!" her harsh whisper filled with glee. "Makers ass, what do you think you're doing?" 

As he made it firmly onto the balcony he gave her a smile which turned her pink from ears to breast. Wishing she had one of the fans the noble ladies seemed to love so much to hide behind but her hands would have to do.

Fenris never cared for much finery but seeing Hawke, seeing Sylvana, he understood why someone would surround themselves with it. She was stunning. Her hair pinned up in loose tendrils leaving only a few curls loose against the elegant stretch of her neck… the small peek of flesh at her breast. For a moment he forgot to breath. Remembering the reason behind scaling a building offers his hand.

“I believe you called for a rescue?” His rich voice raising pleasurable goose bumps over her flesh.

“I… yes. Yes I did.”


	21. studies in iambic pentameter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am not good at iambic pentameter. I am not good at all.
> 
> Feral Fen'Hari and Tallis Lathvhen  
> 

They sat on the floor in the library nook hunched over books brought up from Fen'Hari's den. Comparing aged texts in Skyhold to the ancient texts Tallis had brought with from his personal collection. Fen glanced up from her reading giving her eyes a break from faded ink and ancient words and found her gaze settling on the older man. He was at least ten years older but she would consider him still quite handsome, especially when his brow creased just so when deeply concentrating on his work. She hadn't ever seen the face of adults bare until she came to Skyhold. While the city elves where sight enough─ she figured Solas to have been born in a city somewhere by how he othered himself from Dalish elves─ Tallis was Dalish and still bare faced due to his own clans traditions and she found it quite wonderful. 

Feeling her eyes on him he looks up just in time for her eyes to dart down to his page of notes reading over what he had written. Chewing on her lip in thought over one of the lines.

"that's not right." her words blunt as she points to the offending line.

"what do you mean?" he was certain he had translated it correctly, the line in the text had not been too difficult.

"it doesn't flow correctly, it's wrong." leaning over to pull the book he had propped on his lap closer to look over the words. 

"There. Breith. It doesn't mean sentence it means birth... well it means both in this line." 

"Why do you say that? Breith in all my findings means a judgment or sentence." Tallis raises a brow curious as to what she could know that he did not.

"The veil was wrought in mourning's wake; a sad and remorse filled decree... a cell of which had many locks but only with one key." Chewing on her lip thinking over the line. "that is at least as close to the original intent and meter as I can manage. Solas might be able to smooth it out? He tends to speak in the meter used in most of the ancient texts and songs."

He watches, her eyes now spanning through the pages of the book she hadn't realized was now in her lap. He wasn't sure if he should be more awed or concerned─ her previous scroll which spoke of the Dales now discarded for the replicated ancient tome which spoke heavily of Fen'Harel. Watching a fen child play out their role was a fascinating and terrifying thing.


	22. gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feral Fen is not so good with gifts....

She padded through the gate and across the bridge. Now many who lived at Skyhold made comment anymore about the large white wolf that came and went which spent a great deal of time at Inquisitor's side.. They were Dalish elf after all so having some wild beast as a pet made sense in their minds. A few heads turned with wide eyed stares from new comers and nobles as she crossed the courtyards. Whispers of both awe and disgust over her form would have brought a wolfish grin if she didn't have the dead hare in her mouth. 

Up the stairs and into the Rotunda she pauses for just a moment to look at the progression of Solas' newest mural still in the works. The elf concentrating deeply on his work so she continued on up the spiraling staircase to the library. She perks on catching the scent of Tallis having guessed where he'd be correctly she follows the scent to the small alcove where he sat. 

Books were piled quite high around him almost like a fort as he thumbed through comparing various titles to each other and taking notes for himself. She sat just outside his circle of books and watched him work. He was engrossed in his cross referencing─ so much so that he didn't notice her until she let out a soft whine. With a soft start he looks up from his work.

"Ah aneth ara." He smiles "you're back earlier than usual." 

She makes a soft chuff, eyes darting to the window. 

Tallis wasn't as good at reading her as Aurin, but a glance at the window revealed it was much later than he thought. "Oh, I suppose not!" 

She laughs with her eyes giving another soft whine before setting the hare gingerly on the floor in front of him and nudging it in his direction.

His smile was warm as he looked down at the dead creature, he looks back to Fen who looked unerringly pleased with herself.

"ma serannas" he says with a throaty chuckle patting her head. "it's just about dinner time isn't it."

Fen'Hari responds with another chuff and nod.

"If you help me get these books put back we could probably get to the kitchens in time for some fresh bread to go with the rabbit." 

a whine and anxious look around at the people still populating─ and trying hard to ignore the elf talking with a wolf─ the library.

He sighs and gives another pat, ruffling her fur.

"Then you'll have to wait." standing with a stretch and beginning the task of putting the books back where they belonged.


	23. birds of a feather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'Hari- age 13, story line of her joining Lavellan.

She stood at the edge of the small clearing as though she were a spirit. Tall and lanky with white hair falling loose from the braid which lay over her shoulder. The firelight caught her eyes in the dark reflecting back the familiar green sheen. 

“You can come closer, Da’len” Feyneral calls to her. 

Zatlen looks up squinting across the fire to try and see who it was Fey was speaking to and just barely catching her ghostly form in the dark before she steps out from the shadows. Dry leaves barely making a sound under her feet and looking like a halla about to run.

“You’re Toren, correct? The one Deshanna brought back from the clan’s meet.” Fey asks looking over the young teen and getting a nod in response. 

“I thought he would be younger…” Zatlen comments

Toren startles head whipping to Zat as if just now noticing the second elf sitting at the fire before quickly closing the distance between herself and Fey and crouching down at his side. Keeping a close eye on Zatlen.

“Are you hungry? There’s some left over supper if you’d like it.” He offers hoping to ease the young elfs nerves.

Shaking her head vigorously she settles onto the ground turning her attention once again to Feyneral studying him as though he was a curiosity to be figured out. 

“You’re different.” She says at length her voice soft and low.

“As are you.” He responds with a comforting smile.

She nods solemnly pulling her knees to her chest. Zatlen watches the two of them- he was used to odd happenings around his brother so he didn’t think to question the interaction overly. A smile spread on his face as Fey shuffles out of the wolf fur lined cloak and drapes it over Toren’s shoulders. The thing nearly swallowing the young elf. She pulled it even closer a contented expression softening weary features.

A soft chuckle came from Feyneral before he continued the conversation the brothers were having before he had noticed their guests approach. It wasn’t long after that Toren had curled up cloak pulls close until only the smallest peak of her face was visible.

“Should we take him back to Keeper Deshanna?” Zatlen asks giving a nod to the sleeping pile of fur  
.  
“They would only find their way back by night’s end….” Fey answers moving to scoop Toren up. “One more in the pile of youngsters won’t hurt.” 

With a bit of shuffling the two get their guest into the covered aravel and onto the cushions with the three already sleeping youngsters belonging to the two brothers. 

“He’s a bit of unique one, even considering who I grew up with.” Zatlen jests as they settle back down at the fire.

“You’re not wrong… he’s very intricately tied to all of us. Though how I can’t quite place.” Fey says staring into the fire certain tonight’s dreams would be interesting to say the least.


	24. In this moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sahlin Banal'din  
> companion OC

The breach cast his eyes toward Haven, the twisting and broken sky filled his belly with an ache of familiarity and homesickness in the way one remembers their childhood. Whatever machinations had been put into play it did not bode well to have such magics unleashed on the world once again. 

With offered words of gratitude for taking him in and sombre goodbyes Sahlin gathers his meagre belongings once again, leaving the clan of Mibelen which took him in three summers ago while he was wandering the lands of The Bannorn. He would miss them and no doubt they him but it wasn’t the first parting he had made- adding names and faces to a long list of friends left behind to pursue a new path.

Sahlin was in no rush as rumours of the Inquisition trickled to him from his travels towards what they had claimed as their base. Spending time in the camps of refugee’s to hear their tales… They told him that the one helping was the Herald of their Andraste even though she was a Dalish elf like himself. Their Makers bride has chosen a vessel to save Thedas from the war and the Breach one who had walked in the fade and spoke to Andraste herself.

They told of the benevolent acts being done. Food and shelter being providing. The closing of the rifts which allowed demons to pour into this world. As they told him their stories he shared what food he could, it was easy enough to kill an extra hare or two in a day if it meant he’d have a warm fire and some company for the night. The news that their Herald was Dalish seemed to soften his entrance for many. Others it was the simple offer of a full belly.

When the Herald and her Inquisition allied with the Rebel Mages he took notice. Even the Dalish held a healthy weariness of an abundance of mages. She was trying to heal the sky to seal the breach and it made sense… somewhere deep inside a melancholy stirred at the thought. The veil was so thin, it felt as though in places he could slip across return from where he came. No, not him. He was of flesh and blood. 

His path seemed to take him to places where he would miss encountering the Herald by only days at times. Watching the sun set a week out from Haven he took little comfort in the bleeding colour which met the green light of the breach. Hours later, the veil shifted sharply suddenly. It was the next morning that he heard news of the Rift being closed, and of the attack. The valley Haven rested in buried and the mountains silent ever since. 

Another week passes, and news started trickling once more. An army let by an ancient darkspawn, corrupted Templars, an archdemon. But the Herald lived. The Inquisition and many who had travelled to Haven lived. They were on the move once more heading deep into the mountains. And so he followed suit. 

Sahlin could travel faster than they- A caravan of wounded and exhausted pilgrims and soldiers. He could take routes they could not. Finding them was not a difficult task nor was simply appearing within the ranks one dreary morning. He was not the only to join as they travelled and word had spread… other small groups which could travel quicker latched onto the tail end of the caravan. He kept going. Curiosity over this Herald was too great to be content in settling into the crowd. Even as rumour travelled down the line of their destination a fortress high in the mountains it only piqued it further. Sahlin had the advantage of not needing to rest like others. As they settled for the dark cold nights he continued further up the line. 

Two days later he stood in the Heralds main camp.


	25. Investigating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sahlin

“You where there when Haven was attacked?” He settled himself easily enough with a group of soldiers. The look on their faces told him enough to know they had seen battle against forces no one should ever see. 

“Aye” a young man spoke up, still healing wound slashes across his face and eye bandaged over. “Pretty much everyone here in the main camp was. A few stranglers have managed to find their way here like yourself. Every soldier here though…” he left his words fall away. Sahlin could see the haunted look in his good eye. 

“Aint ever seen it’s like and I served during the blight.” A woman of about thirty adds. “Fought in Denerem and everything… those things. They weren’t like the darkspawn. They were once men. You could see their faces, those not too twisted with that red lyrium. See they’re Templars crest.” She shakes her head hoping it would shake the memories away. Darkspawn where monsters and had always been. These monsters had once been men.

“The Herald though. She. If it wasn’t for her none of us would be alive today. The Maker truly is watching over us.” The first chimes, getting agreement from all around the fire.  
“Tell me of the Herald. I’ve only managed to gather rumour from refugee’s as I travelled and you know how rumours go.” Sahlin asks as he pulls a pouch of a tobacco herb mixture and his pipe. Offering to share with the soldiers.

“You’re not from her clan then?” the young man asks as he accepts the offer.

Sahlin chuckles deeply looking back over his shoulder towards where he knew the Herald and her kin sat in much the same manner.   
“There are many clans in Thedas.” 

“oh. Sorry… just, it’s not that common for the Dalish to swarm to Chantry things….” The boy flushes in embarrassment.

“I was under the impression that the Inquisition lacks Chantry support.” 

“Well true, but it’s got its roots in Andrastian beliefs.”

“Helping those in need are not simply teachings of Andraste.” Sahlin counters his attention wandering as someone from the Heralds circle left the circle of light and tents which shielded them from the rest of the camp. The ever present wolf at his side cluing him to which figure was wandering off on their own.

“Which ones he then?” Nodding towards the form.

“Aurin I believes his name, the Heralds cousin? Picked up that beast sometime after things got started. Both him and it are a bit off if you ask me… even for an elf. No offence.” A third soldier answers.

“Aurin?” He pondered over the name. It created thoughts of soft light filtering through leaves, a stark contrast to the Vallaslin of Elgar’nan on the young man’s face which was always etched with some kind of worry or distaste.

The sound of Aurin’s voice carried as he spoke to the wolf as if it could understand him. Hitched and uneven in timbre. Sahlin listens more closely to the words a great deal more in elvhen than most of the clans he had stayed with spoke, a strange thing-he thought- considering how interlaced with human’s the Lavellan clan seemed to have made themselves. He watches him as he vanishes into the shadows beyond the tents leaving the camp. The idea of moving to follow comes to mind before he things the better of it. As curious as he was, it didn’t wise to follow ‘off’ characters with magic when they vanish into the night with bestial companions.


	26. don't get idea's even if you know your parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sahlin

They had taken notice. They had to have. Sahlin made no secret of his presence within camp and as the soldiers said there weren’t many Dalish elves running around unless they were kin to the Herald. In fact, there was only one and that was Sahlin. They were busy-or so he presumed- and found him of less import than the immediate task at hand. The only thing which did seem to act was the wolf as he spotted it several times over the next two days watching him. 

It was late in the next day while travelling that Ilo-or so he’d been told-sought him out. She came up beside him easily somehow having gotten behind him. The ease and silence of her movements caused a grin to spread on his face; she had the potential to be formidable if crossed. He noted it would be best to stay in her good graces.

“Good evening…” He greets 

“Where is it you come from?” She asks not sparing him a look.

“The Bannorn is the last place I called home. I hear you and yours are from the Free Marches?” 

She watches him from the corner of her eye letting the silence settle to the sound of hooves and feet on the rocky ground. 

“What is it you are doing here.” 

“to be perfectly honest I have no clue on that myself. I thought to offer my aid but I have little idea of where to start in that.”

“I understand why you’d be curious about Risa, but why are you watching my brother as well.” Her voice was tinted with a veiled threat.

“I happen to find him attractive.” 

His blunt answer brought a huff of amusement from her. She wouldn’t take it a full face value but she didn’t detect any dishonesty in his tone. 

“Don’t get to many idea’s, pretty boy.” She cautions 

“Ideas have never really been my strength.” He offers with a light hearted chuckle.

She cracks a grin turning to look at him for a moment before picking up her pace heading back to the front where the rest of her family marched.

\---  
Camp was being set by the last dying embers of light. Lanterns were lit and everything was settling when Sahlin caught sight of Aurin sitting on a boulder, his wolf sprawled across his lap. As he approached the wolf let out a deep throated growl eying Sahlin.

“You are Aurin? Or so the soldiers say.” He asks keeping a few paces between them.

“And you are?” words curt like his sisters. He rests a hand on the beast ceasing it’s growl but it still shifts to be on better guard.

“Sahlin… Though friends tend to call me Sahl, helps cut confusion.” He replies with a soft bow 

He studies the two before him, both man and beast where even more splendid up close. Aurin’s soft blue eyes catching the light of the lanterns the colour pulled further by the red lines of the thornish Vallaslin which played well with his features, rounded but with a strong jaw and nose and full lips. From the distance Sahlin had watched Aurin from before he hadn’t been able to tell just how attractive the man was. The wolf was much larger than he had guessed up close. While Aurins small frame allowed the beast to be nearly to his waist Sahlin had misjudged how much was beast and how much was fur.

“Okay then, Sahlin.” Aurins voice rolled.

“It will be like that then?” Sahlin cracks a grin “I supposed I should not have expected different. These are troublesome times and I am not kin, I was hoping at the very least we could be friends. Your sister spoke with me earlier. Well I would not say we had much of a conversation more of shared a few lines.. or she asked me a few lines and I responded then she went off again to the front of the line before I could get a proper conversation going.” Letting words fill the empty space between them as he crouched down level with the wolf, extending his hand to it for judgement. 

“You have a wonderful an-“ his words falling off as he catches the beasts eyes, and his grin grows wider “companion.”

“She doesn’t trust strangers much.” Aurin explains as the wolf bristles.

“Not a bad stance to have in life, strangers can be bastards,” a throaty chuckles follows.

“What about you?” Aurin asks relieved when his voice didn’t give away how anxious he was.

“I tend to trust strangers a bit too much these days if I were to be honest. Spent a good to many years not trusting them and it got me nowhere. But caution is a healthy thing. A smart thing,” Looking up at the blond still crouched “but what is the fun in playing smart?” 

“I should get back to Ilo and Risa.” His voice pitching ever so slightly as he nudges the wolf off him so he could slide off the boulder. 

“and you need not worry, Aurin. I know both my parents.” Sahlin laughed- the sound warm like mulled wine- as he watched Aurin walk away. Giving the young man a wink when he turned to look for a moment.


	27. Compassion and Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sahlin meets Cole

The fires where left to burn low and all but the posted guard had retired, yet Sahlin remained awake watching the stars rotate through the heavens as the time ticked by. An occasional murmur would drift across the wind from tents of those who found sleep harder to find than others. Or perhaps talking in their sleep.. minds wandering across the fade. A deep breath. Ice air stung in a cool clean manner the smell of snow and rock beneath the stench of the weary travellers. Their guide promised one more day. Just one more day and they would arrive at their destination.

“Breathless, heavy, dancing, free. Please the word stains your lips please. It doesn’t hurt like you thought it would. You’re not afraid like you ought to be. In this moment I am free. I am nothing and so I can be everything.” 

Sahlin’s eyes lazily fall from the stars to the pale boy beside him. The brim of his hat hiding most of his face but his lips which held a sad sort of smile.

“You want to help them. So many feel trapped in their fear but you can barely hear them. It scares you that you can hear them at all. He’s gotten so close to the surface now.” He continues hands counting as he slowly rocks listening to the world around him as no one else can. “you never heard others before but maybe it’s because you can slip away. Like a leaf or feather caught in the wind. I feel it too. It feels like home but not like home, singing in a broken key. But you are not like me. You never forgot you.”

“Compassion,” Sahlin speaks softly as much a greeting as an identifier.

“Here I am Cole.” He responds.

“Cole.” His face twisting into a knot. “I do not like hearing them. The faint whispers I cannot quite make out like murmurs from another room in a language I do not speak… and if I touch them the thoughts flood over my own. Even yours. Down where you have forgotten… I can feel them churning like branches in a whirlpool broken and twisted. Death granted no freedom.” 

“They feel trapped from the fear. It ties down their hearts and keeps them from being free. You can help make that fear go away and set them free.”

“And you? It is not fear that shackles you.” Sahlin watched the spirit as he shook his head.

“I want to help.” Cole says simply.

The elf knew that it was much more which kept the spirit feeling heavy- like his head was underwater- but he could not tell just what is was.

“You are not an abomination,” Cole adds “Freedom chose you because your wish was pure. They saw what was and that you could set others free. That they are now part of you does not make you something that should not be.”

“Thank you.” The words did ease some of the old worries from his heart. Lifting his eyes back towards the sky he counted the constellations. Naming them off for Cole as the spirit remained by his side until even his eyes grew too heavy to remain open.


	28. please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suhlin, backstory  
> TW: ABUSE, Emotional manipulation, physical abuse, slavery mention.

“please” he croaked. Throat dry, cracked, torn from the hours of screaming. “please…” he could taste the blood in his mouth ragged breaths as it slid into his lungs…or maybe that’s where it came from.  
She had promised him freedom. One more task. One more experiment and he would be free. They had never been like this. She had always tried to be gentle, cautious, she had soothed wounds with gentle words and touches- tending them herself as they healed after. This time was different.  
Was he even alive? Could she hear his pleas…? He couldn’t tell if he was still breathing- his eyes refused to focus. His body no longer felt the pain. He thought hard…what was the prayer to Falon’din? No… he had to live. She promised him freedom. If he was free he could find his sisters-he could save them like he was unable to a decade ago.  
“please.” Was he even speaking out loud anymore?  
There was a brightness around him. Shining into his unfocused eyes he couldn’t move to close them.  
“Death will bring freedom.” Was it a thought? A voice?  
“not for them.”  
“why is it you wish this so greatly?”  
“They should be free..”  
“who?”  
“everyone…”  
.  
.  
.  
“Amatus…?” Her voice was soft. Sweet. Soothing. A cool hand on his cheek.  
He lets out a soft groan. He felt heavy again but there was no pain just the warm numbness that came with her pain droughts. He wills his hand to move to hers, holding her hand to his cheek. Tender, soft. Had the rest been a nightmare?  
“are you awake, Amatus? You woke far earlier than you should have. You should have slept through.” He feels her shift on the bed, lips pressing to his forehead.  
He pulls her hand to his lips, pressing them against soft fingertips. “I am sorry Mistress.” He murmurs. Something in his mouth tasted foul..  
“Shh… your body must be processing my droughts faster is all. If you begin to feel any pain let me know so that I can give you another. You’ll be as good as new soon enough.” Another kiss to his forehead and he hummed softly letting the warmth of the drought carry him back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy he kills her-I mean she dies in her sleep in mysterious ways.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tzza, Zat, and Fey

Zatlen found his brother perched on the battlements, face cast towards the bridge as though watching the coming and goings.

“See anything interesting?” he says trying to find mirth in his voice when the lyrium infused orbs turn towards him.

“A raven will come for me today” Feyneral smiles like a child awaiting a gift. 

“A raven?” Zat furrows his brow momentarily curious as to who would know to send a raven here for his brother just recently recovered and thought by all but him and the pack to be dead.

“A white raven from the imperium.”

“Why?” Zat bristles as his own eyes turning to the bridge. His head spinning, he had only just gotten Fey back from the imperium and the smile on his brothers face unnerved him causing him to wonder if they had truly managed to break whatever mind control had been placed on his brother.

“He needs his wolf.” Fey answers turning his attention back down to the people coming and going from skyhold.

A lone figure causes Fey to perk, his attention focusing on them. They wore a hood pulled low over their face and the cloak covered most of their form below but Fey’s interest and flashes of familiar armor beneath the cloak tugged at Zat who slid from the wall and down the battlements to investigate further.

He found the man speaking with one of the guards. The familiar deep pitched voice which sounded as those stone ground together beneath the Tevinter accent. Zat needed no other clues, he knew the man from his dream which told him how to find Fey, and he had fled the battle when they had come to claim his brother from the Venatori. He didn’t spend time in thought before grabbing the guards bow which was left leaning against the wall-uselessly he thought- and notching an arrow.

“Here to reclaim lost property? Sorry to disappoint you, but that is happening over my dead body.” Zatlen trained the arrow on the pale tevinters head. 

The man slowly turns towards Zatlen, as the confused guard reaches for his sword.

"I told you where to find him, did I not? Unfortunately it was that action which also cost me my relative safe position and I had to sunder my acquaintance with the Venatori or forfeit my life. I thought then, if the raven must flee the nest the safest place would be at the wolf’s side."

Zatlen eye’d the figure who still hid behind his hood. Opening admitting he had worked for the Venatori was something he had not expected. Even more surprising was when Fey pushed past his brother and moved quickly to the stranger.

“I knew you would come, friend.” embracing the man in a quick hug. 

"Of course you did, I saw your vision as clear as you. Do you think I'm a fool who would not understand what it meant? I simply hoped for more time before having to make a full retreat."

"Know that I am watching you." Zat lowers the bow but keeps it in hand, giving the guard a nod of the situation was in hand.

"I would expect no less of you... Now; Pointless threats aside how is he?" Stepping back from both the path and Fey while taking the man’s face in his hands studying and turning it this was and that. 

"The lyrium eyes are giving us trouble still." Zat explains though feeling uncomfortable with the strangers handling. “But you could ask him himself you know.”

“I can can’t I..” a smile brushing his mouth, the only part of the man’s face easily seen from beneath his hood. “You’ve not been using the flush as instructed,” he tsk’s patting the man’s cheek to get him to open his mouth and tsking again. “They chipped your teeth.” 

“What are you doing.” Zatlen growls trying to contain his anger at watching someone handle his brother as though he was an animal on a sellers block.

The man stops. Having gotten so far as to feeling down Fey’s arm before realizing his actions and dropping his arm. 

“It’s okay, Zat. Tzza is my friend.” Fey answers for him.”He does it because he cares.” 

“It is simply force of habit. I’ve told you before, elf. We aren’t friends, I do not have friends.”

“Yes. Yes.” Fey laughs linking his arm into his and pulling him closer to his brother, “now come meet my brother properly.”


	30. Sit in Judgment: random rabble and Mayor gregory.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tastings of Gealis' judgements.

The usual mirth and idle chatter of the great wall was silenced on the days when the Inquisitor sat in judgement. He sat on this throne, not much more than a glorified armchair but the sword like extensions created an imposing silhouette behind the man. The warm light which bathed the room sat in stark contrast to the Inquisitors expression, no longer the soft easy smile he wore in the gardens but a mask of unreadability as Lady Montilyet spoke the charges set against the three who stood before him.

“The three men before you, Inquisitor, are charged with the crime of banditry, murder, and theft. Preying on the merchants which travel through the mountain pass roads which the Inquistion itself uses to bring supplies to both our soldiers and refugee’s.” Her words sharp and clear fill the hall. 

Gealis nods, murmuring a thank you to the woman as he studies the three. Moments ticked by and still the Inquisitor said nothing, prisoners and witnesses alike beginning to shift uncomfortably.

“I will give you each two options,” he speaks at least leaning forward on his throne. “As killing does not bring you distress, you can join the forces of the Inquisition and hope to redeem yourselves by protecting those you once preyed upon or you can remain in the cells for another year and forfeit your sword hands in reparations for those whose lives you have taken.” 

Silence fell. 

“Well?”

One by one they answer none spending much time to think, choosing to join the inquisition, in the ranks there was a chance to slip away, and a higher chance of keeping all limbs intact. He passed quiet instructions to Lady Montilyet to pass on to Commander Cullen before dismissing his new recruits under guard.

There was a soft murmur that ran through the hall, talking over his sentencing as always. Some claiming he was too soft; bandits should be executed – while more kind hearted souls agreed that they be given a chance to better themselves. None knew the three men would be separated and sent to the harshest corners of Thedas.

“Our next prisoner, Inquisitor. Is Theron Albet. He is charged with desertion and has plead guilty to all charges. While usually soldiers are more immediately charged and sentenced on field by their commanding officers they took pity on Theron and sent him to you on his request, your worship.” 

The prisoner, a young man – if you could call a boy of fifteen a man – approached the dais with his head hanging low. 

“Desertion?” Gealis stands from his throne and walks over to the accused. Suddenly much less intimidating as he stood several inches shorter than the boy. “How old are you, da’len? Fifteen, sixteen?”

His voice soft and quiet barely heard by any but the nearest witnesses. 

“f-fifteen, your Worship.” The boy stammers.

“Why did you join the Inquisition?”

“My family, your Worship. We were refugee’s and you did more to help us than anyone else. I wanted… to help others too; and the pay keeps my family fed. Then I was stationed in De Lion.. my patrol was attacked by Red Templars and..” he swallows hard, fear, guilt, and shame on his face.

“and you realized just what we are fighting.” 

“yes.. I- what good am I to my family dead?”

“You do not deny the charges against you, even knowing what it could mean?”

“n – no… your Worship. I – I might be a coward but I’m no liar. I know what I was doing”

With a sympathetic nod Gealis moves away to speak to Lady Montilyet before retaking his thrown.

“Theron Albet, when joining the Inquisition, you swore an oath to serve under my command, to fight for the Inquisition, and to protect those unable to protect themselves. For the charge against you of desertion I find you guilty. However, you are a child not yet old enough to carry the weight of a sword let alone understand the weight of the oath you have broken – as such I cannot in good conscious sentence you as if you were grown – therefore for your crime you are discharged without honours from service. You are no good to your family dead, and if you do not have the stomach for war you are no good under my command.” There were few sour faces to the sentence, not many would argue about not sending a boy to his death. 

There was a settling in the Great Hall as the Inquisitor and Ambassador spoke on the dais a few words trickling to the crowd of witnesses before the next prisoner to be judged was brought forth.

“Mayor Gregory Dedrick of Crestwood is present for betraying his own constituents. He confesses that ten years ago, he flooded old Crestwood to kill refugees and villagers touched by the blight. The Mayor claims it was to spare the rest of Crestwood, but we only have his word.” The lady speaks, her own displeasure slipping into her voice.

“Gregory Dedrick, what have you to say about the accusations before you? What do you say in your defence?” Gealis leans forward on the throne, watching the man closely.

“There’s no cure for the blight, but I couldn’t convince anyone to leave a sick child or husband behind.” The pleading strain clear in the haggard man’s voice.

“So you herded the infected into one place and flooded old Crestwood? Were no innocents caught in the waters?” Lady Montilyet cuts in – Gealis raising his hand softly to still her words.

“Nearly everyone in the village had the blight, I swear it! Have mercy, I couldn’t tell the survivors I’d drowned their own families to save them. I – I couldn’t.” the defeated Mayor stammers shrinking down under the hard gaze of the Inquisitor.

The silence crept back into the hall. Gealis’ jaw set in a hard line as he studied the man who stood before him. His eyes drift away slowly to the faces in the hall who stood witness to the proceedings, lingering a moment on the face of the quiet healer he spoke to often in the gardens before continuing their scan of the crowd. He had already decided the man’s fate before he had been brought before him but Gealis had hoped that Gregory would make an argument to explain his actions during and after to sway said judgement. 

“I am a man who believes that no one if without hope of redemption, war forces us to make choices we may regret for the rest of our lives – how could I not hope that we can all be redeemed for those choices. However, you lied for ten years about the actions you took in order to save your people and fled after leaving a confession. I have no doubts the lives of those you took weigh heavily on your heart Gregory but you have made no indication that you wish to redeem yourself of these actions. Ten years is a long time for families to be without closure. To lie to your people of what happened. To then flee when the truth is learned like a rat on a sinking ship. I am a man who believes in redemptions, yes, but I am also a man who serves for justice and in this justice demands it’s due. Mayor Gregory Dedrick I give you the sentence of death by beheading.” 

His words hung in the air as the murmurs started, no one had expected such a ruling. The Inquisitor had never sentenced someone to execution in the past – ever when it seemed truly deserving. 

“The day has come at last. Maker forgive my sins.” The mayor says weakly as his head hung low.

As the Mayor was walked out of the great hall Gealis remained seated. The murmur from the witnesses turning into outright chatter about the events of the trials and trivial things most would be unaffected by the evening going to bed with it being simply another day at court… chatter on hopes of a rousing show the next day with an execution starting up. Hardly any caught the way the Inquisitor pinched the bridge of his nose before standing, or how his shoulders hung a bit lower before slipping silently through the door which led to his private quarters.


	31. just sleeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gealis lavellan, Fawn of Perendale, fluff, almost smut
> 
> After the events taking place with the former Mayor of Crestwood Gealis finds himself in a depression, he's never executed someone until today after all, and with his usual support system away Gealis asks Fawn to stay with him for the night - just for sleeping.

Gealis ran his fingertips lazily over Fawn’s hip. She could feel the soft prickle of fade energy from the anchor raising goose-bumps along her skin as it passes. He pressed his lips gently to her exposed shoulder and back, drawing a soft hum from her throat. Taking it as encouragement, the kisses became more than a whisper on her skin.

“I thought you said you were only interested in sleeping,” Fawn said with a sleepily content chuckle.

“Sorry,” he murmured, burrowing his face into the volume of her hair as he snakes his arm around her waist to pull her closer. “You’re just so – lovely. I’ll do better.”

“I did say that I wouldn’t mind.”

“No. It wouldn’t be fair to you if the first time we… because I sought a distraction from my thoughts.” His words were muffled.

She rolled to face him, taken aback for a moment by the shine off his eyes like a cats and little else of his face visible in the pale moon-light which poured in through the great windows. The shine flickered as his eyes moved, studying her face.

“You are so beautiful.” He said softly causing her cheeks to flush, though the colour was lost in the pale green glow of the anchor as he raised his hand to brush hair from her face.

“I – thank you.” Smiling softly, she captured his hand and laced their fingers together. “Tell me of your family, you mentioned a sister?” If he wished for a distraction, she would offer him one.

“Mhmm, Na’di. She’s my baby sister well… she’s in her twenty-fourth year and already commands respect from most of our veteran warriors. She’s ruthless in battle and doesn’t trust humans as far as she can throw them.” He offered a weak laugh.“But I suppose many in our clan are the same despite all our interactions and trading. She was almost chosen to go to the conclave instead of me but Mamae realized just how sour that could go… our biggest fear was whoever was sent not returning. For Na’di it would be because she would find herself in a fight she couldn’t win. Mamae simply feared I’d be too content with humans.” Gealis rambled, happy to take the bait and talk about his family even as it stirred the sorrow of home-sickness in his gut. It was better than thinking of the blood on his hands.

“Too content with humans, hm?” she hummed, easily able to see why it would be a fear. He had a human lover… perhaps a second in her, and he moved with ease amongst them.

“I spent over a year away from the clan before I was an adult. It’s how I met Max in fact – we were seventeen and from very different worlds and his mother nearly had to have me killed to get us apart.” He laughed softly, the casual tone of it making Fawn furrow her brow for a moment until she remembered how some of the things she mentioned casually of the circle seemed to mortify others. “Everyone was surprised when I showed back up. And a little relieved as it’s not always certain what happens to one of the family when we don’t return. And while we try not to it’s easy to assume the worst.”

“That…I can understand I think. Whenever a young mage would run and the Templars would go after them…usually they would be brought back to the circle but…not always. Though we always had a hope that they were just never found and not killed like the Templars would say.”

“Rule by the fear that if you run, it will be your fate… we’ve had some in the clan try to keep us and humans separated with similar threats. It didn’t last, but they caused a lot of damage and – it’s not important, it’s well in the past.” He cut his words off by kissing her fingers as they remained entwined in his. “Tell me something of the circle which you do miss, ma da’era’felan?”

“Ma da’era’felan?” She worked her best way around the elven words, thankful for the years spent studying various texts and languages in the circle allowing her to not butcher the phrase.

“Mmm, little herb mage would be the literal translation.” He kissed her fingers once again.

“Oh.” A blush rose to her cheeks once again.

“If you don’t want me to call you that-“

“No, I – no one’s ever given me such a cute nickname.” The blush deepened enough that even in the dim light Gealis could make out the darkening shade of her cheeks.

“Well you deserve a cute name as you are incredibly cute, especially when you blush like you are now,” Gealis said, amusement in his tone.

Her hand moved to her cheek as her eyes widened. She could barely make out the outline of his face let alone any details and certainly not well enough to catch any change in colour. The movement drew a soft chuckle from him and a shift in order to place a kiss on her lips.

“You can see that well in this light?” she asked in awe.

“I forget that it’s not something humans can do.” His grin was wide enough that she could hear it. “But, this is getting off subject.”

“It is.” She hummed softly, thinking over memories of the life she had left – had been forced out of when the circles dissolved. It had been terrifying, facing such a great unknown life, but now that she had experienced life outside she knew she could never return with the same complacently. “Hmm something of the circle which I miss… Working with the children.”

“Oh?” she watched the shine of his eyes narrow and flick out for a moment from whatever expression he was making she couldn’t see otherwise.

“Oh yes. I’m very happy that the Inquisition took the children in as well, not just the adult mages. When so many left the Circle, they left the tranquil and the children and…those who couldn’t defend themselves because ‘they didn’t have use’ but I do miss spending time with the children every day. I’m too busy with the infirmary to see them.”

“You like children?” The hopeful rise in his voice caught her off guard.

“Oh I adored the children at the circle – especially since I’ll not be able to have my own…” Her words trailed off.

“Why wouldn’t you be able to have your own?”

“I’m a mage.”

“A mage no longer under circle rule.”

“I – I hadn’t even thought of that. With how chaotic things have been…” a nervous chuckle tinged her words. “But even so the chances of my child being a mage…”

“A mage with a caring, nurturing, and brilliant mother to teach them to control their abilities and use them to help others.”

He watched her eyes widen and search, trying to let in what little light could be found to hopefully see his face, questions and adoration on the curve of her brows. He returned the look though with far less questioning, knowing full well how he felt. There was no reason to question himself or her on the butterflies which swam in his stomach.

He leaned in again, lips barely pressing against hers before retreating again. The soft pout she gave in return to his backing away brought a grin to his face before she chased after, determined to get more than a hint of a kiss. He delighted in the game; pulling back just enough each time their lips would meet to make her shift forward until finally Fawn reached up, lacing her fingers through his hair, and pulling him back to her. She could feel his smile that came with the pleased hum which escaped his throat.

Soft lips gave way to curious tongues. Fawn’s breath caught as he bit her lower lip, drawing a quiet moan from her as teeth pull gently across the tender skin. She relished the feeling of being able to explore the other and savour the sensations unrushed – unlike previous lovers within the Circle - with secret stolen moments in alcoves and empty rooms. There was no feeling of urgency to their actions as hands drifted over each other’s forms; just the growing heat in the depth of her gut. The thought that she could easily shift, let him inside her and let their bodies ride each others pleasure pulled a long groan from her. The way his grip tightened and hips rolled at the sound told her he had similar thoughts.

“Gealis.” She breaks away, voice breathy.

His response was more a groan than words, taking the chance to kiss and suckle on her neck, leaving faint red marks along the way.

“Gealis, hold on. Stop.” Her words purred in pleasure to his mouth’s actions.

“Mmm, ma nuvenin.” A soft pout in his tone but doing as instructed.

“Hmm?”

“As you wish.” He Nestled into her neck and inhaled her scent deeply.

“That’s it?” She had expected it to take more convincing. Previous experience had told her it would have.

“If you don’t want me to stop…” He shifted so he could view her flushed face.

“No. I think we should. I just wasn’t expecting…”

He chuckled and rolled onto his back as she nestled up to him, trying to ignore the throbbing between her legs but thrilled at the new sensation of having the freedom to not go further. To take time in enjoying each other slowly. It didn’t have to be all in one night.

“As much as the thought of making love with you is very very enticing, this is very good as well.” He took her hand in his once again and brought it to his lips.

With a contented sigh she nuzzled in closer, running her hand over his stomach and enjoying how it squished. A comfortable silence filled the room despite the shared frustrations, though it didn’t last long before it was taken over by a softly hummed tune from Gealis. Fawn didn’t recognize it, but it was warm and sweet and she found herself being lulled to sleep much faster than she thought possible.


	32. Codex: Letter Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unfinished letter found on Inquisitor Gealis Lavellan's desk. The handwriting is lazy and impatient:

Mamae,  
I find myself at a loss. With the war no longer looming overhead there is no longer a sense of urgency in closing the breach and thus many of our allies have started to decrease their funding. Others aren’t quiet as happy about where we have been spending their “war funds”. Apparently helping those left homeless and starving from the war mean little to them. I will never understand human nobility as a concept for just that reason. We have started efforts across Thedas to rebuild villages and keep roads secure for those needing to find new homes at a much grander scale than during the war effort. 

Max has left for Kirkwall, my heart aches at the thought of him being so far away. Zat has been asked by Lathvhen to meet with them and there is rumour of him being asked to be their Keeper as their previous keeper, his great grandfather, has passed and had no first. Somehow Zat came to be proposed. He will be even further than Max and harder to contact regularly. I still have Ren and Fawn at my side, and that brings me peace. Soon, I promise, I will bring Fawn to meet the Clan, I am certain she will be well loved even by those weary of humans. 

Many of the “Wolf Pack” have wandered away, to where I can’t say, but most left with smiles and missions of their own. Fey remains here at Skyhold and despite the trials he has faced is as feisty as ever, his vhenan is a good man and keeps him in good health. Risa also remains, for now, though I can see the gears churning in her head and she has been working on learning Tevene, I can only speculate as to where her thoughts go. Aurin has left with Sahlin, to where they did not say but they seemed determined to accomplish whatever it was they have planned.

I often wonder if you have found a new first, and again apologize for my part in your losing Roaan. He would have made a good Keeper but I cannot say my heart doesn’t sing that he has found an adventure and someone to share it with. Of course I may be bias as the Trevelyan men are quite alluring.

By the time this letter finds you I shall most likely be in the Frostback Basin, there have been some interesting reports which I wish to look into.


	33. Codex: Wolf Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Found in the courtyard at skyhold; a list with notes scribbled around, translated from an unknown script by someone and then lost:  
> (Fen'Hari & Tallis)

packet ground em root  
15 pebbles yellow white black  
Blood of a halla – unavoidable  
Fire, hot  
5 jars of honey  
2 pelts, rabbit  
I could bury the sun  
20 steps then 4 towards the water - where?  
Untranslatable – ha try again love – turnips? – nope – your penmanship is deplorable – (drawing of a heart)


	34. Tranquil Meeting (Father can you tell me...)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abhel and Cohnal meet their father for the first time since he was made tranquil when they were toddlers.

They stood in front of the door, Abhel clutched the letter he had written to his chest and his other hand was entwined with Cohnal’s both brother’s gripping so tightly their knuckles were white. A deep breath from both and they knocked – the sound echoing in the silent hall. There was a long pause before they heard the click of the lock disengage and the door open.

“Yes?” the voice of the man was soft, barely hitching up into a question.

“Kaeden?” Cohnal, able to find his voice asks.

“Yes. I am Kaeden.” The signature monotone timbre of tranquillity coming out as the elf spoke more than a single word.

“Can we come in? There’s something we need a talk to ya about.”

“Of course,” Stepping to the side to let the two into the bed chamber. “You were a guard in Kirkwall, I remember seeing you. It is unexpected to see you here.” 

It was a simple statement, but it caused Cohnal’s heart to race. Abhel felt his hand tighten, the blood had been cut off long enough that the crushing force no longer hurt but he felt the increase in pressure.

“I was, yeah.” Cohnal nods, a soft smile spreading on his lips. “Got posted at the Gallows a lot. You helped out with the Stalls on Tuesdays.”

“I did.”

A silence fell awkwardly into the small space, the twins not knowing how to proceed and knowing that the tranquil man before them would most likely do nothing until prompted. Kaeden studied the two waiting for them to continue face in perfect neutrality. They were familiar faces – he had seen it many times in mirrors – though theirs were nervous, something Kaeden had not seen in himself for sixteen years.

Abhel shoves the letter he had been clinging too at the man, still unable to speak and not wanting to leave all of it to Cohnal. Kaeden takes the letter reading over it:

Kaeden Jadar,

Im not sure if you remember your time before becoming tranquil. I dont know how things work with it but I am Abhel Jadar, your son. By brother Cohnal you probably remember as your daughter Cohna if you remember us at all. We were very young when you were made tranquil. We have a younger sister Hannah who mam was pregnant with when you was taken. She is your daughter too. It is because of her that we never tried to contact you in the Gallows. She is a mage. A healer and Anders took her as an apprentice. She helps lots of people.

I don’t know how much of our trouble making got to the tranquil. We worked with the mage underground. I would sneak into the Gallows to bring letters from outside and sweets mam made for the children. We always asked Orsino to give you one of her cookies. She said you liked them before. Sometimes we could sneak the little ones out. I don’t know if we did good or not making the families have to live as criminals. But I hope we did.

We searched for you after the Gallows fell. Hoping to find you and scared we would find you dead. I am very very happy you are not. I know you are tranquil and we know you won’t feel nothing on learning were your kids but we needed to meet you. We want you in our lives even if you can’t feel things. We want to be there to help you. You risked lots when you were young to see us even if we can’t remember. Sorry I’m saying all this in a letter. Sometimes my words break and I can’t talk so I wrote this in case that happens.

The letter ended abruptly and Kaeden nodded softly to himself once finished. A quirk the twins were surprised to come from someone tranquil.

“I suspected as much,” Kaeden states simply.

“suspected?” Cohnal asks

“That I am tranquil does not mean I do not think. You appear to be the correct age and you both have a strong resemblance to myself. It is however, unexpected to see you in Skyhold.”

“s-sorry. I shoulda… We were pretty surprised to find out you was here. We’d been asking around already… all over Kirkwall after the Gallows fell and Mages were hidin everywhere. Lotsa the tranquil got abandoned though and we was scared you’d been left in the tower while it was still burnin. But Maker’s got a sense of something ‘cause the chances of us all endin up here aint that great but here we are.” Cohnal rambles.

The silence settles again causing the boys to fidget as they searched for words to say. While they knew Kaeden was as calm as he looked internally the twins were like storms; thoughts and emotions bashing against each other in a bid for attention making it nearly impossible to settle.

Abhel nudges Cohnal at last, and makes a series of signs to Cohnal “Tell him about mam”

“Right! Mam works at a shop in lowtown now, says she used to work up in Hightown when she was real young up to when we was six so you’d know that part. But they weren’t givin her enough credit for her hard work and not payin her enough. So she left and found a place in lowtown. Pays not as good but she gets all the credit due so she’s real happy and gots lots of customers lookin for just her work so she actually makes more money. Best seamstress in Kirkwall lots say. Make ya a dress faster and better than any hightown posh shop she can.” The young man couldn’t help but gain a proud grin as he spoke.

“Eda has always been very skilled at what she does, it is good to hear that she has been able to become happy in doing it.”

“She just recently found a beau, thought don’t think she wants us knowin. Hannah wrote it to us sayin she caught mam sneakin a kiss from him. He came in ta help with rebuildin the city I guess, Hannah says he seems a good man and makes mam smile. I think she’s worried we’d get mad if we knew, like she was tryin ta replace ya or somethin. But it aint like that. She still loves ya, ya know. But she deserves ta be happy too. I think… after you went missin it was easier for her ta move on like she could finally accept ya wont be comin back.” For a moment guilt panged in Cohnals stomach over telling Kaeden his once wife had found another, maybe deep down he was hoping for some form of reaction other than the blank expression, but on the surface he knew it was the proper thing to do.

“It is good that she has been able to do so. I would prefer that she be happy. I will admit I had thought of trying to see Eda, after the battle had settled and before the Mages gathered us up to flee the fallout that was sure to come; but it would most likely have upset her so I did not.”

“you thought of her?” Abhel signs for Cohnal to translate.

“Yes. Tranquil remember their lives from before they are made Tranquil. We are still capable of thought and while we may lack the ability to feel as you do we would still prefer certain things over others. I have always preferred to think that Eda and my children as happy and safe. I would wonder if you would be mages and thus have to face the same dangers which I did. It would not have been preferable if you had. To find that I have a third child will give me more to think on. It is pleasant for a lack of a better word. I am also quite certain that I would be proud of the two of you, had I the capability. Though I do not know how pleasant that is to hear.”

Abhel breaks away from Cohnal wrapping his arms around the man that was his father pulling him into a hug which was probably tighter than what was comfortable but Kaeden said nothing of it, Cohnal was not far behind. Kaeden stood still for a moment before returning the hug himself, feeling it was the correct action to take. Fathers hugged their children after all and even if he could feel no real emotional attachment that did not mean he did not want his children to feel discomfort. He said nothing of the fact that due to how tightly they held him he found breathing difficult, it did not seem the appropriate thing to mention at the time. Though as Abhel’s hold relaxed he took in a noticeably larger breath his body needing more oxygen quickly.

“s-sorry.” Abhel manages to stutter out. Surprised to hear a hum in response instead of words from Kaeden as the twins step back both on the verge of tears. “we should have asked first.”

“Do you lose your words often Abhel?” Kaeden asks chanting his head to the side in comment to the continued use of sign.

“Lot more lately.” Cohnal answers for him, his town verging on disgruntled gaining a glare from his brother. “but only when he gets real turned about on something.”

“Why has it been happening more recently?”

“Lotsa reasons. Findin you is one, then there’s this mousey fella he fancies. Got moved to the scouts and got nervous ‘bout it… he gets all worked up and they just kinda freeze up. Usually don’t last to long though.” Continuing his explanation for the silent twin relieved for the distraction.

“But it happens often enough to have the hand signs.”

“Oh, no. Those we started with for Hannah… She can’t hear never been able to. So we started makin up the hand stuff. Started with just a bit but now we got hand signs for just ‘bout every word we know. Fact that it helps with when Abhel breaks is a side bonus.”

“I would like to learn your signs. If you are willing to teach me. It could be beneficial for later interactions.” Kaeden requests.

Abhel nods enthusiastically, excited at the implication that he would want to see them again. As well as wanting to share everything he could with the man who was his father.

“We- we should probably get goin, it’s already real late and you probably need ta get some sleep. But.. can we come back again and visit?” Cohnal asks guessing if Kaeden had already retired to his room before they had gotten there he that the man had planned on sleeping and while there was little possibility of the twins finding sleep easily he didn’t want to keep Kaeden awake with their surprise visit.

“Of course.” He answers.

The twins embrace him once more before leaving him to his small bed chamber. As they close the door behind themselves he goes over and locks it a habit which he had gained by instruction from a Mage in Redcliffe which he found satisfying to continue doing. The sound bar sliding and locking in place has a certain pleasantness for lack of a better word and at times he would lock and unlock the door several times just to hear it. 

He set the letter down at last on the small nightstand which held only a lamp and dressed for bed, folding his robes neatly and placing them on the plain chair he had been provided to be worn the next day. His routine had been interrupted by the visit but he tried to pick it back up and complete the tasks he needed before sleep. Once on the bed, he found himself picking the letter back up and reading it over again to see if he could gather more information about his offspring by researching the letter and the interaction mentally as he would any other subject.


End file.
